AO3 PDF Archive

No summary found

Closeup portraits, pencil on paper, 2011.

Arthur talks to Merlin, and Merlin reacts.

Arthur is feverish, Merlin snuggles him. Gwen isn't in it much tbh, and you can read it as Merthur if you so wish.

Arthur needs this. So does Merlin.

Arthur can't quite make sense of Merlin's erratic behaviour.

Merlin was a good boy, promise. It's Arthur who thinks he should be doing things that he really doesn't want to do. Like, not spending the entire day at his side, because apparently, pets should be spoiled and pampered and don't need to sit in on boring meetings. Merlin thinks that anything that takes him away from Arthur's side for too long -see, any time at all- is useless and not to be trusted.They're going to have to fix that.

Merlin and Arthur decide to take a trip to Candy Mountain

(in which Merlin and Arthur do the New York Waltz)

After a massive party, Merlin has to get a very drunken Arthur back to his room. Hilarity ensues.

Determined to win his husband back, Arthur treats him as he should have all along hoping they can get back together and live out their lives together, will Arthur succeed? Read and find out x

Arthur and Merlin have been together for months and while Merlin is always telling Arthur how he feels, Arthur never says it back as he doesn't know he loves Merlin, that is not until a family party opens his eyes

Merlin & Arthur's first encounter left a bad impression on Merlin, who was convinced that Arthur was nothing but a prat. When Arthur & Merlin's paths cross again a few years later, Arthur will do anything to change Merlin's opinion of him. But what happens when Merlin is diagnosed with cancer & doesn't tell Arthur, not wanting to be a burden on him? Will they find their way back to each other? It's up to Arthur to set things right.

A Poem about Merlin and Arthur

Merlin uses his magic to weld a new crown for Arthur to wear on Yule, and Arthur gives Merlin… a scarf?

Arthur has trouble reconciling the fact that Merlin is both his best friend, and a sorcerer. And maybe something more.

Merlin isn't sure of Arthur's real intentions, but he will find out soon enough. :)

Gwaine lets Arthur in on a secret and Arthur finally decides to act.

Arthur challenges Merlin to a drinking competition and, well, Merlin's a cheater.

(Sorrow)Merlin and Arthur have a moment before the Feast of Samhain. 'Missing scene' from episode 401: "The Darkest Hour". Prequel for the bulk of the 'Virtues, Chicken, and Destiny' series.

It started like this.Merlin had no idea how he ended up in Arthur’s bed, wearing Arthur’s clothes and inhabiting Arthur’s body. All he could confirm was that at some point during the night, he had ended up in Arthur’s bed, as Arthur, which meant that…Oh shit.

In which Merlin and Arthur tackle monsters, Time and mythical beings. Written for the_antichris for Yuletide 2008.

Gwen and Merlin both have people they're hoping to see when they make plans to attend their ten-year high school reunion.

Arthur follows the text he got from Merlin asking him to meet at Merlin's room immediately.

They played Merlin and Arthur when they were small, because Merlin was well,actuallynamed Merlin, and if there was a Merlin there should be an Arthur to match.

Arthur figures out what it is about Merlin that he can't quite put his finger on, and how Merlin fits into his destiny.

Gaius may know that Arthur and Merlin are in love, but they don't seem to. They're going to need a little gentle persuasion...

Summary:Arthur is left out of the loop on more than one love secret .-Prompt from dirtydreamer:#28. Arthur comes to know that his friend Merlin is planning to ask someone to be his valentine. He is insanely jealous and teases him mercilessly to cover it up. On top of that, Merlin refuses to tell him who the mystery person is... Bonus points for a cute song being involved!-Written for Merlin Writer's Theme: Valentines

"Arthur!" Merlin screamed happily, bright smile still shining on his face. The nurse was right. A very good day indeed.

At the end of 'The Death Song of Uther Pendragon' what if Arthur heard the exchange between his father's ghost and Merlin? What would Arthur do?

It took just a few seconds for Arthur to misinterpret what he saw. Will that mistake cause him to lose Merlin for good? Notes Thanks to my wonderful sister kaseyboy for being my beta again. You're the best! This is now my second mute Merlin story. I seem to only be able to write stories with him either being deaf or mute. I don't know why. Please forgive any errors I've made about muteness and sign language. I hope you enjoy and comments are greatly appreciated. -- -- Arthur met Merlin through his sister Morgana. Merlin was a graphic designer in the marketing department of Pendragon Industries and Morgana was his boss. He had been working there for nearly a year and everyone, including Uther, was impressed with his work. Arthur was now back in London after having spent the past couple of years traveling for the company. He was VP and would one day run the company once his father, Uther, retired. He hadn't minded the traveling until Morgana married Leon, his best friend, about four months ago. He saw how incredibly happy they were together and it made him want more than the life he was leading, coming back to an empty hotel room every night. Arthur wanted someone to keep him in London. He wanted someone to come home to every night and talk to about his day. He wanted to find love. -------- Arthur went down to the cafeteria to grab a quick sandwich for lunch when he saw his sister with a gorgeous young guy. After he remembered to breath, he paid for his food and walked over to where the two were sitting. Before he had a chance to say anything, Morgana saw him. "Arthur, it's so nice to see you. Sit down." After he did she said, "I'd like to introduce you to Merlin and Merlin, this is my brother Arthur." Both men smiled at each other and Arthur reached out to shake his hand. When their hands touched, Arthur was afraid he'd let out an audible gasp. It was like an electric current went up his arm and settled warmly inside his body. It was right after they touched that Arthur discovered Merlin was mute and communicated with sign language. This really wasn't a problem for Arthur because he already knew sign since his mother had been deaf. The two became fast friends, which was nice, but Arthur wanted more than just a friendship with Merlin. So after about a month, Arthur asked Merlin out on a date which he quickly accepted. -------- Arthur and Merlin had been dating for four months when they confessed their love for each other. It was that same night that they slept together for the first time and it was magical. Merlin wasn't very experienced so Arthur took it nice and slow, being extremely gentle with him. -------- Almost every Thursday night, Arthur and Merlin met up at the pub with their now shared friends Morgana, Leon, Gwen, Lance, Gwaine, Elena and sometimes Percy and Mithian. It was Thursday, a few days after they slept together for the first time, when Arthur texted Merlin during lunch. "Sorry, but I have too much work to get done for this merger, I won't be able to go tonight." "That's okay, we'll go next week," Merlin texted back. "No, just because I have to work doesn't mean you shouldn't go." Merlin replied with, "I don't want to go without you." "You go and have fun. I'll see you tomorrow night at the party." "Ok but I'll miss you." "I'll miss you too. Have fun. Love you," Arthur texted and when he saw Merlin's texted "love you too," he put his phone down to get back to work. -------- Arthur finished work earlier than expected so he headed straight to the pub to surprise Merlin. When he walked in it was more crowded than usual but after looking around for a minute he spotted Merlin. He smiled to himself but before he had a chance to walk over to him, he watched as Merlin reached up and put his hands on some guy's chest as he was pulling Merlin close for a sloppy kiss. Stunned, Arthur's eyes narrowed and he turned and walked out of the pub before Merlin or anyone else saw him. What Arthur missed by leaving so quickly was Merlin's knee going into the guy's groin causing him to let go of him. The bloke that Arthur saw kissing Merlin was Valiant, a guy that also worked at Pendragon Industries but in another department. He was always trying to get Merlin to go out with him but he always refused. Valiant was drunk and still couldn't seem to take no for an answer so he forced himself on Merlin. Gwaine and Percy rushed over and shoved him away from Merlin and out of the club and told Valiant to stay away from him. By the time Arthur got to his flat, he was furious. "How could he do this to me," he kept repeating to himself. He quickly downed several shots before he crawled into bed. He was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted and fell asleep almost instantly. -------- "how was work. did you get everything done?" Merlin texted Arthur late Friday morning. When Arthur saw the text, he just glared at his phone and was tempted to throw it across his office but he restrained himself. Instead, he just ignored it along with the other three messages he'd received from Merlin throughout the day. Merlin wasn't really too concerned that Arthur didn't respond to any of his texts. He knew he had a lot going and was probably just too busy to respond. He knew he'd see him tonight at the party Uther was throwing for his employees as a thank you for their hard work. It was an annual event and no expense was spared. -------- Morgana stopped into Arthur's office in the late afternoon to ask him something about the party but he just brushed her off. "I still have lots of work to do on this merger so if you don't mind, I don't have time to deal with your little party issues." "You don't have to be such an arse," she said back as she left his office and slammed the door shut behind her. He wasn't really busy, he had finished the work last night but he was pissed at her for not bothering to tell him that Merlin was cheating on him. He was her brother, she should have told him. -------- Arthur and Merlin had previously agreed to meet at the banquet hall that Uther always reserved for the occasion because Uther expected him and Morgana to be there well in advance of anyone else. The siblings managed to avoid each other, which really wasn't too difficult considering the fact that Morgana was still angry at Arthur from earlier in the day and Arthur was obviously furious with her. Arthur was already at the bar when Merlin showed up. He didn't see Arthur right away but Arthur saw him and moved over to talk to Cendred, a bloke he'd dated a few years ago. Merlin was soon greeted by Morgana. "Have you seen Arthur?" he signed to her. "No, but I really haven't looked for him. I'm sure he's around here somewhere," she said as they both scanned the crowd. "Oh, there he is, at the bar." As Merlin approached Arthur, he heard him talking to Cendred. "So how's the little boyfriend?" Cendred asked sarcastically. "Who, Merlin?" "Yeah." "That's totally over. I got what I wanted and now I'm done with him," he said loud enough so Merlin could hear. Merlin stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't believe what Arthur was saying. Arthur turned around and glared at Merlin as he said to Cendred, "why, you interested?" "Hell yeah," and he slid closer to Arthur who pulled him flush against himself and started giving Cendred open mouthed kisses as he looked Merlin directly in the eyes. Merlin was frozen to the spot as the tears started to pool in his eyes. He needed to get out of there now. He turned and rushed to the loo since it was closer than the exit. He went into a stall so he could try to gather his composure before anyone saw him. Unfortunately, he was spotted by Valiant who quickly followed him into the loo. Arthur watched Valiant follow Merlin, which pissed him off even more. Obviously Merlin's "other boyfriend" was going in to comfort him. He pushed Cendred away and left without saying anything to anyone. Merlin didn't hear Valiant enter because he was trying to get his breathing under control and fighting to stop the tears. As he opened the stall door, Valiant pushed his way into the stall with Merlin. "So Merlin, we meet again," he sneered. He was still furious about the night before when Merlin kneed him in the groin. Merlin was in a panic. He had to get out of the stall and away but before he could even start to fight back, Valiant punched him in the face. This was quickly followed by more blows to the face and several to the ribs before he managed to turn Merlin around and shove him against the side of the stall face first. Before he could go any farther, Gwaine walked in. Gwaine didn't know who was in the stall but he saw blood on the floor and heard struggling so he kicked the door in which knocked Valiant off Merlin. Merlin fell to the floor now that there was nothing holding him up. Gwaine pulled Valiant out of the stall and yelled for help. Thankfully, Percy was heading to the loo and rushed in. As he saw Gwaine fighting Valiant, he grabbed him from behind and yanked Valiant's arm high up behind his back as he put his other arm around his neck before he saw Merlin laying on the floor of the stall. Gwaine rushed over to him and fell to his knees. "Merlin, Merlin, are you okay?! Merlin! Wake up!" He was panicked so Percy kept his hold on Valiant as he shoved him out the door so he could yell for more help. Two security guards came and took Valiant from Percy and called the cops. By this time, all Merlin's friends had filled the loo and everyone in the banquet hall knew something terrible had happened. Merlin finally woke up much to his friend's great relief and Gwaine and Leon were able to get him up. "We need to get him to the hospital," Leon said. "Where's Arthur?" Morgana asked but no one was able to answer because no one knew where he'd disappeared to. She rushed out ahead of them to get to her car. Leon and Gwaine led Merlin outside and to Morgana's car, which she had at the curb waiting for them. She was on the phone leaving Arthur a message as Gwaine and Leon slowly climbed in the back with Merlin. Everyone inside the hall was shocked and sickened after not only knowing it was Merlin that had been attacked but seeing his bruised and bloody body being helped out by his friends. -------- Morgana and everyone else tried to get in touch with Arthur once they were at the hospital but their calls just kept going straight to voice mail. They were all unaware of the fact that Arthur left the party to go home where he proceeded to get drunk. After the first call he got from Morgana, Arthur turned off his phone without even listening to it. Morgana left him a second message telling him to "call as soon as you get this. Merlin has been hurt. We're at the hospital." From Leon: "Hey man, I don't know what you're doing but call Morgana or me when you get this message." From Gwaine: "Listen you arse, Merlin's hurt and needs you. Where the fuck are you?!" From Morgana: "Arthur why the fuck aren't you answering your phone! Call me back!" The friends also tried texting Arthur. Morgana: Call me now!!!!!! Gwaine: where the fuck r u !! Leon: Arthur we took Merlin to A&E. Come as soon as you can Morgana: get your fucking ass over here. Merlin needs you Gwaine: FUCK YOU PENDRAGON -------- Merlin was admitted to the hospital and taken to surgery to repair the broken jaw he suffered. He also had a concussion caused by Valiant slamming his head against the wall of the stall and several cracked ribs. As soon as he was out of surgery and moved to a private room, thanks to Morgana, Leon went to Arthur's flat since no one had heard from him yet. -------- Arthur woke up to pounding on his door at six in the morning. He could hear Leon yelling something but he put his pillow over his head and fell back to sleep because his head was pounding. When Leon told Morgana that Arthur never answered his door, they both were worried that something had happened to him. -------- Around ten in the morning, Arthur once again heard someone banging on his door. He then heard Morgana's voice yelling at him to open the door. He managed to get out of bed long enough to yell at her to "fuck off" before he crawled back in bed. He was quite sure she was there to bitch at him for making Merlin cry and he didn't want to hear it from his traitor sister. She was furious with him but relieved to know that he was at least okay. She'd deal with him later but right now she needed to be with Merlin. No one else knocked on Arthur's door for the rest of the weekend. Saturday night, when he finally turned his phone back on, the first text he saw was from Gwaine, "FUCK YOU PENDRAGON" so he deleted it plus the rest of his texts and voice mails without reading or listening to them. How dare Merlin involve their friends and have them harass him. -------- Monday morning when Arthur showed up at work he got a few surprised looks from people but no one approached him. He was still angry with Merlin and his friends and apparently the scowl he wore on his face made everyone avoid him. He spent the morning locked in his office. When he left to go to lunch he was stopped by several people asking him how Merlin was doing. Arthur and Merlin hadn't flaunted their relationship but he knew people were aware of it. He was annoyed that everyone seemed so concerned about Merlin just because of what Arthur had done Friday night. They obviously didn't know what their beloved Merlin had done to him the night before so his response was either, "how should I know," or "I don't really care." Each of which brought looks of shock or anger or disgust. When he returned from lunch, he got more of the same questions so he stormed straight to Morgana's office. When he got there, her PA told him she took the day off and then told him she was surprised he was there. "And why wouldn't I be here today," he demanded. "I just figured, with everything that happened, you'd be at the hospital," the PA said. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Why would I be at the hospital?" "Well, I thought since Merlin was there, you'd..." but she stopped herself before she said anymore fearing it could end up getting her fired. Arthur stormed back to his office where he slammed his door shut before he called Morgana. After six rings, she finally answered. "Where are you and what the hell is going on?!" "Oh Arthur, so nice of you to finally call," she said with such fake sweetness it just angered him more. "What the hell is going on?!" "Oh, so you want to act like you're interested now?" "Morgana, tell me what's going on," he growled. "Well, let's see. Merlin got through surgery and they should be releasing him soon." "What the fuck are you talking about? Why did he have surgery? Where are you?" "Sorry, but I can't talk anymore. The doctor's coming." She hung up leaving him worried and confused and feeling sick. He still had no idea what was going on so he called Leon. "Leon, please tell me what's going on," he rushed out almost in a panic. "Well hello to you too Arthur," Leon snapped because he was angry at Arthur's lack of concern for Merlin. Arthur knew it must be something bad if Leon was talking to him like that. "Leon, please, I just want to know what's going on," he pleaded. "Friday night Merlin was attacked by Valiant in the loo. He really did a number on him. He broke his jaw, cracked several ribs and gave him a concussion," he told him sadly. "No," Arthur whispered. "They had to do surgery on his jaw that night but Morgana told me a short time ago that they were going to release him from the hospital today, which is good. He looks like shit though. When I saw him last night, the swelling in his left eye still hadn't gone down much. His lip is still swollen and he's probably going to have a scar or two from where Valiant's ring sliced into him. He's really sore and having trouble moving because of his ribs but other than that, he's fine," he finished sarcastically. Arthur collapsed in his chair trying to just breath. 'This can't be happening,' he said to himself. Finally, he gathered his composure enough to ask Leon what hospital he was in before he rushed out of his office. By the time he got to the hospital, Merlin had already been released. He assumed Morgana probably took Merlin back to his own flat, not really thinking, so he rushed there. After spending several minutes banging on Merlin's door, he realized Morgana must have taken him somewhere else so he called her. "Morgana, where is he?" he demanded. "No, I'm not telling you. The last thing he needs right now is to get upset so just stay away from him. I think you've done more than enough damage as it is," she said before she hung up. Arthur sat in his car and put his head on the steering wheel and cried. Merlin was hurt and even though he was cheating on him, he still needed to see him so he went to Morgana's. She wasn't there so he just sat outside her door to wait until she returned. It was around five when she finally showed up looking tired. "What are you doing here?" she asked him as she unlocked her door and went inside. "I need to see him, please," Arthur said as he followed her in. "No, I don't think you do. I believe you hurt him enough already by making out with Cendred right in front of him." "I was only doing that to get even with him." "Get even with him for what?!" "For cheating on me and don't even try to act like you don't know what I'm talking about." "I have no fucking idea what you're talking about?!" she yelled as Leon walked into the flat. "I saw him all over some guy at the pub!" Arthur shouted. "What are you talking about?!" she yelled again. "Oh come on Morgana, I saw him!" "When!" "Thursday night, as soon as I finished with work, I went to the pub and saw him and some guy all over each other. It was really nice of you and Leon to not tell me my boyfriend was cheating on me!" "Oh my god, are you kidding me?!'' She knew instantly what he was talking about. "Did you also happen to see Merlin knee him in the groin to make him let him go?! Oh, and, by the way, that was Valiant, the same guy that beat him up Friday." "What?" "He wanted to get revenge on Merlin for what he did to him on Thursday night." "But...no! I saw him follow Merlin into the loo on Friday. I just thought he was going in there to...No! Oh my god! I watched him go in there so he could hurt Merlin and I just let him." He fell to the floor and sobbed knowing he could have prevented the whole thing. Morgana kneeled down beside him and put her arms around him. "Arthur, you were an idiot but you had no idea Valiant was going to hurt Merlin. You can't blame yourself for that." When Arthur got himself under control, the brother and sister stood up and sat on the sofa. A minute later Leon came in with three cups of tea. They all sat there in silence until Arthur finally asked, "where is he?" "Listen, if I tell you, you have to promise you won't go see him, at least not right now." "No, I have to see him. I have to make sure he's okay for myself. I have to tell him how sorry I am. Please Morgana." Morgana looked over at Leon and he gave her a small nod. "Okay, but listen, I'm going to go with you and if Merlin doesn't want to see you then you have to promise you'll leave." "I promise." -------- Morgana drove Arthur to Gwen and Lance's flat. 'Of course,' he thought to himself. He should have known that was where Merlin would be. Before Morgana left, she had whispered to Leon to call Gwen to warn them that they were coming over. She wanted Gwen to be able to talk to Merlin and check if he wanted to see Arthur or not. As soon as Gwen answered the door, she told them Merlin was sleeping, which he was because of the pain medication he was on. "Can I go and see him? I promise I won't wake him," Arthur asked quietly. "Go on, he's in the guest room," Gwen told him. -------- Arthur slowly pushed the guest room door open. The room was fairly dark because the blinds were closed but even in the dim light, he could see Merlin's battered face and it knocked the breath right out of him. It took a minute before he was able to walk into the room. The light from the hall landed on Merlin's face which made it possible for him to see the bruises, cuts and swelling more clearly and it made him nauseous. He just looked down at Merlin's abused face while tears streamed down his cheeks. Finally, he kneeled by the side of the bed and reached out to hold Merlin's hand. With his other hand he very gently moved Merlin's hair off his forehead and leaned up and kissed it tenderly. That kiss was followed by many more gentle kisses to all the injuries on his face. "I'm so sorry Merlin. I'm so so sorry. I love you so much. I just hope you'll be able to forgive me some day." He then rested his head on the side of the bed never releasing Merlin's hand and cried. Arthur didn't know that Gwen and Morgana were outside the room and witnessed the tenderness he displayed towards Merlin. They finally walked away to give him some privacy. Merlin never woke up while Arthur was sitting with him which he was both grateful for and sad about. He wanted to tell him how sorry he was and how much he loved him but he was afraid of the reaction Merlin would have from seeing him. After a few hours he got up and left the room asking Gwen if he could come back and see him in the morning. "I don't think that's a very good idea. Just give me time to talk to him first," Gwen told him. "Okay, but can I call you in the morning to check on him?" "Of course." Morgana had already left so he went outside and walked around for a while before he called a cab to take him home. -------- Arthur didn't get to see Merlin at all that whole week. Gwen tried to spare his feelings by telling him that Merlin didn't want to see anyone. Arthur knew it was just him that Merlin didn't want to see because Morgana was keeping him updated on his progress. She told him he was still in a lot of pain and was getting antsy and wanted to go back to his own flat and back to work but the doctors wanted him to take another week off. Actually, Morgana was keeping everyone updated by sending the staff daily emails regarding Merlin. She said it was much easier doing it that way because she was repeatedly being stopped throughout the day by coworkers wanting to know how Merlin was. After Monday, no one had wasted their time asking Arthur how Merlin was. He assumed word of his initial replies to those inquiries on Monday had spread and now they all probably thought he was a heartless bastard. -------- The second week was much the same as the first. Gwen would come up with some excuse or another as to why he couldn't see Merlin. Arthur sent him a text each day but never got a reply back. He also sent flowers and even talked to a doctor to see what kinds of foods Merlin could eat and then had that delivered to him. -------- Merlin finally returned to work the following Monday. Arthur wanted to go see him but it was like a zoo around him most of the day with coworkers coming to see him to tell him how glad they were that he was back and how much they missed him. Arthur stayed in the background and watched as people would smile as soon as they spotted him, which made Arthur's heart warm knowing so many people cared about and adored Merlin. When he finally got a clear view of him, Arthur saw that the swelling and bruising was almost totally gone. He still had a bandage covering up the stitches he had on his chin and cheek and was moving slowly but he looked happy to be back. Tuesday, Arthur went down to Merlin's department just before lunch hoping to catch him alone. When Merlin spotted him, he quickly put his head down and acted busy. It was clear that this wasn't going to be easy. "Hey, how're you feeling?" Arthur asked him. "Better," Merlin signed back without making any eye contact with him. "I'm glad. Um, do you think we could go somewhere and talk?" Arthur asked hesitantly. Merlin shook his head no then signed, "I've got a lot of work to get caught up on." "Oh, okay. I guess I'll let you get back to it then." As he turned to walk away, he added, "I'm really glad you're back," and then left. Once Arthur was back in his own office, he shut the door, sat down and put his head in his hands. He felt like crying knowing Merlin didn't want anything to do with him. After Arthur left him, Merlin slowly made his way to the loo so he could try to regain his composure. It was so hard seeing Arthur and he hadn't been ready for it. Arthur continued to make attempts to talk to Merlin but he wasn't successful. -------- Three months had passed since Arthur broke Merlin's heart and he was desperate to talk to him so he went to Morgana to ask if he could join them for their weekly pub night. She didn't give him an answer right away because she wanted to check with Merlin to see if he was alright with the idea. After she'd talked to Merlin, she told Arthur it'd be okay if he came. ------- Over the next several weeks, Arthur slowly started trying to engage Merlin in conversations. They started off with small talk and one word answers but at least it was a start and Arthur could feel the ice beginning to melt just the tiniest bit between them. On one of their weekly trips to the pub, Arthur watched as a bloke came over to Merlin and tried to talk to him but Merlin just shook his head and tried to walk away. The guy then grabbed Merlin by the shoulder and swung him around roughly but before it went any farther than that, Arthur was there between the two of them shoving the man away from Merlin. After they exchanged a few words, the man left and Arthur turned around to face Merlin. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Arthur asked. Merlin shook his head no but looked a little shaken so Arthur put his arm on the small of Merlin's back and led him back over to their table. When Merlin sat down, Arthur took the seat beside him. They were both quieter than normal after that but if their friends noticed, no one mentioned it. When Merlin was getting ready to leave for the night, he gave Arthur a sad smile and signed thanks. Arthur wasn't about to let him walk out of the pub alone because he didn't know where the guy from earlier was and he wasn't willing to risk Merlin's safety. As Merlin was standing, he noticed Arthur stand also. When he looked at Arthur giving him a questioning look, Arthur just grinned and shrugged his shoulders and walked out with Merlin and led him over to a taxi to ensure he made it home safely. Merlin gave him a small wave which he returned before heading back inside the pub to rejoin their friends. Merlin had a hard time falling asleep that night. He kept replaying the events of the night over and over in his head. He could almost still feel the warmth of Arthur's hand on his back. He was so confused. He thought he was getting over Arthur but now he was doubting that. Maybe he had just been fooling himself all this time thinking he was getting over him. -------- Merlin missed their next couple weeks of pub nights. He told Morgana it was because he had a lot of things he needed to get caught up on but Arthur secretly thought it had more to do with what happened with their last encounter. Arthur had stayed away from Merlin at work per Morgana's request but he had at least that one night a week where he could see and try to talk to Merlin but with his absence, Arthur was going crazy. He missed Merlin so much. -------- Gwen was having a party to celebrate Lance's birthday. It was a large gathering outside their building in the patio area with lots of people Arthur didn't know. Arthur spotted Merlin off to the side signing with Owen, a guy from work. Arthur was concerned that maybe he and Merlin had gotten together so he sought Gwen out. Before he could find her, a blonde bloke approached him and put his arm over his shoulder before whispering in his ear asking him to dance. Arthur removed the guy's arm as he shook his head and continued his search for Gwen. Unbeknownst to him, Merlin had been watching the encounter and grinned to himself when he saw Arthur walk away from he guy. When Arthur finally located Gwen, she explained that, no, Merlin and Owen weren't together, just friends. Arthur let out a deep sigh of relief. Gwen gave him a small smile and patted him on the arm before she returned to her other guests. She and the rest of their friends had finally forgiven him for hurting Merlin. When Arthur next saw Merlin, he was standing off to the side watching people dancing to a slow song with such a sadness and longing in his eyes that it broke Arthur's heart. He walked up to Merlin and asked, "will you dance with me?" Merlin looked at him with sad eyes and shook his head no before he looked down to the floor. Arthur wasn't about to give up so easily. He hesitantly reached out and lifted Merlin's chin to get him to look at him. "Please," he mouthed as he was giving Merlin puppy dog eyes. Merlin hesitated and Arthur took advantage of his indecision and again asked, "pretty please?" This drew a grin out of Merlin. Arthur slowly reached out and took his hand as he looked at him more serious this time. "Please," he said again looking so hopeful, Merlin finally relented and allowed Arthur to lead him over, but off to the side, of where everyone was dancing. When Arthur pulled Merlin into him, like he had done so many times before, it felt right. Oh how he had longed to have this back. He held on to Merlin like his life depended on it. Before he even realized it, he had tears running down his cheeks and soaking into Merlin's shoulder. Merlin pulled back a little and looked at Arthur's face. He slowly lifted his hands and gently wiped the tears off his cheeks with his fingers and gave him another sad smile. Arthur pulled him close again not wanting to give up the closeness. He was relieved Merlin let him. Before either of them had even realized it, twenty minutes had passed and the people that were still dancing were now jumping around to the song now playing while they were still clinging to each other just swaying in each other's arms. Finally, Merlin started to pull away a little which brought Arthur back to reality. He looked at Merlin and gave him a sheepish grin before he released his hold on Merlin and then led him away from the dance floor keeping his hand on Merlin's back. When they reached the other side of the patio area, Arthur asked him if he'd like a beer and when Merlin nodded yes, he left to fetch them both one before returning to Merlin. Arthur knew their friends were secretly watching them but was thankful no one came over to interfere. Arthur handed Merlin his beer before he asked, "can we please talk? There's so much I need to say to you." Merlin looked at him nervously. He didn't know if he was ready to be alone with Arthur and listen to what he had to say yet. But Arthur's next "please" broke any remaining resistance he had. Arthur led him up to Gwen and Lance's flat. He didn't want any interruptions so he took him to their guest room so they'd have privacy if someone else came into the flat. When they reached the spare room, Arthur led Merlin over to the bed to sit and put both their beers on the dresser. He then kneeled down in front of Merlin so he could see him clearly. "I am so so sorry I hurt you. There is absolutely no excuse for what I did. There is no way you could hate me more than I hate myself. I love you so much. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but can you ever forgive me?" Merlin looked at him for a minute before he signed, "I can forgive you in time but I don't know if I'll be able to forget what I heard you say and what I saw you do." He now had tears running down his face. "I thought you loved me but then you said and did those things." Arthur tried to respond but Merlin waved him off and continued. "I always thought you were out of my league and I couldn't believe you would ever be interested in me, but then, the longer we were together, I started to believe it was real and that maybe you did love me. Then when I heard you say you got what you wanted and was done with me, I felt so stupid and humiliated." He had to stop to wipe his eyes of their tears. "You used me and made me feel dirty and worthless. I loved you more than anything and then you did that to me. You got what you wanted and then just threw me away like a piece of trash." Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He reached up and held Merlin's hands to still them before he spoke. "Oh my god Merlin, please, I love you so much. I swear I wasn't using you. Please, you have to believe me. You mean more to me than life itself. I am so so sorry. I would do anything to be able to turn back time and erase what I did." "Why did you do it then?" he signed. Morgana had already told him how Arthur had misinterpreted what he'd seen that Thursday night with Valiant in the pub but all Morgana knew was that Arthur had kissed Cendred right in front of Merlin. She only knew that much because other people had witnessed it and told her about it. She didn't know anything about what Arthur said to him because Merlin had never told her or anyone else because he was too embarrassed and humiliated. "That night, I went to find you at the pub because I finished work early. When I walked in, I thought you were kissing Valiant..." 'But I wasn't. I would never do that to you." "I know that but, at that moment, I just was so angry and jealous, I lost it. I wanted to hurt you the same way I was hurting." Arthur looked down at the floor for a minute before looking back up at Merlin. "I'm so sorry. You are the most important thing in the world to me. I'm willing to do anything to get you back. I love you so much." He was crying by this time and leaned over to rest his head against Merlin's knee. Finally, he felt fingers running through his hair and after a minute of savoring the feel of it, he hesitantly pulled back and looked up at Merlin who signed, "I don't know if I can trust you again. You broke my heart. How do I know you won't do it again?" "I swear to you I will never hurt you again. I would rather die than cause you any more pain. Please believe me." When Merlin made no response, Arthur continued, "I love you Merlin and I will do anything it takes to get you to trust me again and to prove to you that I do love you." Merlin still didn't respond. He just stared at Arthur fighting an internal battle with himself. Part of him really wanted to believe Arthur but the other part just kept replaying the words Arthur had spoken to him that night. "Can we try again? Please?" Arthur signed. Merlin looked at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes and signed, "maybe we can try being friends." It wasn't what Arthur was hoping for but it was so much better than it could have been so he counted it as a small victory. He stood up and then pulled Merlin up and into his arms. He knew he might be pushing it but he just had to feel him in his arms again. Merlin didn't seem to mind the closeness either because he relaxed into the hug. ------ A few months after Lance's birthday party, Merlin and Arthur were friends again. Arthur wanted more but Merlin just couldn't get over his trust issues with Arthur so whenever Arthur broached the subject of them going on a date, Merlin declined. Arthur was determined not to lose hope, after all, he was the cause of this. He patiently waited for the day Merlin would be able to look at him and not see him as the man that had broken his heart, but instead, as the man who was willing to wait for him no matter how long it took. Over the following months, he sat back and waited. He knew Merlin was his soul mate and even though it killed him not to be able to hold or kiss him, he held onto the belief and hope that one day soon, Merlin would realize that too. It took nearly six months for Merlin to finally see that man. Arthur hadn't pushed but he had been there making Merlin laugh, buying him coffee and then surprising him by delivering it to his desk, showing up at his flat with take-out when he knew Merlin had had a bad day and he'd most likely forget to eat, offering him support and a shoulder to cry on when his Mum was very ill and in the hospital. He was also there when Merlin went to the store to buy a new suit for Gwen and Lance's wedding. He helped pick out a shirt that showed off his beautiful eyes. When Merlin came out of the dressing room, Arthur was standing there with a tie for him to try on but, instead of handing it to Merlin to put on himself, he stepped close to Merlin, flipped his collar up, reached around him to grab the other end of the tie before he carefully tied it just right. When he reached up to flip the collar back down, he didn't remove his hands. He looked deep into Merlin's eyes and moved his hands just enough so he could gently stroke Merlin's cheekbones. When Merlin took a startled gasp but didn't pull away, Arthur leaned in and pressed his lips to Merlin's. He pulled back a few inches but when Merlin made no attempt to retreat, he cupped his face in his hands and kissed him like it was the only thing that would keep him alive. He didn't realize until they broke apart that they both had tears streaming down their faces. He gave Merlin a warm smile as he carefully wipes the tears from his face and then pulled him in for another kiss that ended with them just holding each other in the middle of the dressing area. When they parted, they looked at each other and they had matching grins on their faces. Arthur smoothed down Merlin's shirt before he stepped back and looked him up and down, "you look absolutely gorgeous. Merlin, will you be my date for the wedding?" Merlin smiled even brighter and nodded yes. Arthur pulled him in for another hug and ended with a quick kiss before Merlin turned and retreated back into the dressing rooms. Arthur felt like he was floating on air. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs and throw his arms in the air proclaiming victory. He had just won the best prize in the world, Merlin. As soon as Merlin emerged with his clothes, Arthur took them up to the counter and told the shop assistant they'd be back later in the week to pick everything up after the alterations were complete. He then lead Merlin outside where he couldn't help himself. There, in the middle of the street, he pulled him in for another kiss and hug. Once they'd broken apart, Arthur whispered, "I love you so much." He would've loved more than anything to drop down on one knee and propose to Merlin right then and there but he knew it was too soon. He did know that it would happen this time though. He was never letting go of Merlin again. In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Merlin and Arthur started going on real dates. Arthur would pick him up and take him to dinner. Merlin was still a little apprehensive so Arthur was more than willing to take it slow for Merlin. They decided not to tell their friends just yet. They wanted to wait until after the wedding because they didn't want to take any attention away from Gwen and Lance as their big day approached. Arthur and Merlin sat beside each other during the wedding ceremony. Arthur reached over ever so slyly to hold Merlin's hand. At the reception, they danced together a few times but not enough to make anyone suspicious. The week after the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon, Arthur and Merlin showed up to the weekly pub night hand in hand with matching smiles on their faces. Their friends looked at them and broke into cheers before pulling them into hugs. -------- Six months later, Arthur was once again outside a dressing room standing in front of Merlin, tying a bow tie for him this time. He gave him a passionate kiss and then smoothed down Merlin's shirt before he stepped back and looked him up and down. "You look absolutely gorgeous," he told him. This time, Merlin was standing in front of him in the tuxedo he'd be wearing in less than a month to their own wedding. Arthur had never been happier. Merlin accepted his proposal after they were dating for less than five months and here they were, less than a month away from their wedding day. It had been a long bumpy road that Arthur had to travel down to regain Merlin's trust but he'd finally made it to the end. Arthur knew what it was like to lose his precious Merlin, now that he had him once again, he was going to cherish and love him for the rest of his life. -------- Six years, one flat and one house later, Arthur and Merlin were in the park. Merlin was running around playing with their three-year-old daughter Freya and her new puppy. Arthur watched them from the picnic blanket they'd spread out under a tree and realized he was the luckiest man alive. Every morning, when he woke with Merlin in his arms, he couldn't help but think that he almost lost this forever and he'd hold onto him a little bit longer and a little bit tighter. Then he'd think about his daughter and what he would've missed out on without Merlin's forgiveness so he'd hold on just a little bit longer and a little bit tighter still. The end. Thanks for reading. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur builds them a cozy little nest, and Merlin makes a fire.

we are, we are, we are.-arthur doesn’t know how to dance. merlin teaches him, and some poetry and awestruck arthur later, they realise the true depth of their feelings.

Or "Why Arthur Should Stop Getting Knocked Unconscious at Strategic Moments Throughout the Show so that Merlin Can Do Magic Without Getting Caught." It's Arthur's coronation day, but the new king isn't quite… himself this morning.

Merlin Emrys wasn’t sure what to make of Arthur Pendragon most days. He certainly wasn’t expecting to become best friends with Arthur all those days back in primary, and he definitely wasn’t ready to develop an all-encompassing crush on him.Now if only Merlin could do something about people constantly mistaking the two of them for a couple...(Or, five times people thought Merlin and Arthur were together and one time they actually were. A glimpse into the lives of Merlin and Arthur over the years.)

Merlin kisses Arthur under the mistletoe at a Christmas party, and Arthur finds himself hoping it means something more than it probably does because what else does one do when they're pathetically in love with their best friend?Or in which two idiots in love dance around their feelings and keep 'accidentally' ending up under mistletoe.

No matter how hard they try, Merlin and Arthur just can't get time alone.

merlin is mad at arthur. arthur knows merlin is ticklish. cute and fluffy. Merthur one-shot really short “Ugh. Merlin c’mon, stop pouting it was just a movie” Arthur said to his best friend. “No, I have a right to ‘pout’ seeing as you went to see the new avengers movie without me” the raven-haired teen said to his best friend. “Come on please, I hate it when you sulk and not talk to me, I apologized like fifty times and I even bought more tickets for tonight at seven” Arthur whined, he stuck out his bottom lip. He sounded like a puppy. Merlin’s knees threatened to buckle. “Arthur stop, that’s not gonna work tonight” Melin demanded. The raven-haired teen moved to the couch. “Did you actually get more tickets?” Arthur nodded, “I did” “You didn’t have to do that, spend your money on me I mean” Merlin said. Arthur shook his head this time “I didn’t, I used your card” “ I never should’ve given you my code” Merlin growled. “Are you still mad” the blond asked. “Yes!” merlin said exasperated, he crossed his arms across his chest. It was Arthur’s turn to adopt a moue look. “Sorry” Arthur was beginning to worry, Merlin never stayed mad at him this long. Then he remembered. Arthur grinned mischievously at Merlin. “What, what’s that face for…” Merlin’s eyes widened “no.. don’t you dare!” Arthur launched himself across the couch and onto Merlin. The blonds hands quickly found Merlin’s curved sides and he wiggled his fingers brushing the ticklish skin. Merlin pursed his lips determined to keep his laughter in. When Arthur didn’t get much of a reaction he moved his hands to his best friends underarms then back to his sides quickly. Merlin couldn’t help it if he held in his laughter any longer he was sure he’d combust. He opened his mouth and his melodic laugh filled the room. Arthur also began to laugh his atrociously adorable laugh. As he tried to keep it down his laugh turned to giggles while Merlin laughed hysterically. “Arthur… pl-please, please s-stop” Merlin giggled out. “What?” “I’m… sorry-i’m not … mad I..I promise” Merlin gasped. “Are you sure” “Y-yes” “Okay” Arthur dropped his hands. The two teens were lying one on top of the other, sweaty and messy on the couch. As Arthur’s breath came out in puffs blowing Merlin’s ‘too lazy to cut’ long bangs out of the way they stared into one another's eyes. Blue meeting a lighter blue. At that moment Arthur realised how much he had been aching to to taste those luscious tempting lips for forever. The blond leaned down and Merlin’s eyes widened. The space between them decreased at an annoyingly slow pace. After what seemed like forever Merlin moved up and pressed his lips to the blond. He felt Arthur’s lips part as he gasped merlin took advantage and slid his tongue in. After what seemed like forever Merlin moaned and they broke apart. “We should probably get going so we don’t miss the movie” “Yah, okay” they got off the couch and straightened their clothes as best as they could. As they exited Merlin’s house Arthur followed him to the passenger’s seat and opened the door. Merlin got in and before he shut the door Arthur leaned down and gave merlin a quick peck on the lips, Merlin sighed. Arthur never opened the doors for merlin like he had just did but Merlin didn’t care cause it felt good. It felt right Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

On a cold winter's night shortly following the return of magic to Camelot, Arthur and Merlin try to get used to a lot of things.

We're on the right side of rock bottomAnd to you I just keep crawlingYou're the best kind of bad something'Cause we keep on coming back for more...The best expression that could summarize Merlin and Arthur’s relationship would probably be ‘rock bottom’.

Merlin unconsciously makes Arthur do things with his magic. Mind control. "All Merlin knows now is that he looked at Arthur and wished really really hard that he could command Arthur like Arthur commanded him..." MerlinxArthur SLASH. Dub-con.

Arthur notices Merlin’s constant injuries, and decides he needs to step in and protect Merlin.

Arthur receive a phone call from Merlin and goes help him.

Throughout their entire lives, Merlin and Arthur have a hard time letting go of each other.

Modern Merlin and Arthur story. Arthur wonders what happened to old fashioned romance. But perhaps it's over-rated, after all.

As they made their way out of Gaius’ chambers, Merlin hit his leg on the table, the sound of the table leg scraping across the ground ringing out loud in the silence of the room. Arthur jumped, eyes wide, and Merlin grinned sheepishly. “Ah, sorry.”“Be quiet, idiot,” Arthur snapped, and Merlin’s grin dropped.***Merlin's woken in the middle of the night by Arthur, who is acting suspiciously and will give no indication of what's happening.

Merlin thinks Arthur taking a wife is an egregious, unacceptable idea. Arthur wants him to realise why.

Arthur and Merlin are in an established relationship. What I think the episode would have ended like if that were true. Tag for S4e1

Arthur is not the kind of guy who gets nervous. But he's nervous now. On his date with Merlin.

Arthur woke to a cold bed and his first thought wasn’t of his absent husband, no, it was that goddamn blanket.

Merlin and his cat adventures, ones that almost get him killed, do not amuse Arthur. Not one bit! Notes Prompt 304: Saviour by ObsidianSerpent A/N : I intended to write something quite angsty but decided to go in the opposite direction with this one. Disclaimer : Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. Arthur was making his way outdoors to go to the training grounds when Sir Leon ran up to him, out of breath. “Sire, there is commotion at the stables.” When they arrived, it was to see Percival and Gwaine kneeling beside someone lying on the ground. Percival looked up at Arthur, his expression worried. “I don’t think he’s hurt too badly. The cat was on the roof,” were his only words. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but Arthur put up a hand and shook his head. He’d talk to Percival more in- depth later, but he’d heard all he needed for now. He had more important things to worry about. He didn’t need to look down to see who it was on the ground. Percival wouldn’t have given him that look unless it was Merlin. Arthur pushed the others out of his way and carefully picked up Merlin, only worrying afterwards that perhaps he should have left him on the ground until he could be checked out for injuries, but as Merlin was trying to talk, Arthur took that as a positive sign. He visibly relaxed once he saw that the damage didn’t seem too bad, and he briefly wondered whether he wanted to throttle Merlin or kiss him more. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened when he heard a familiar meow. Arthur sighed. He should have known. Damned cat! If Arthur had told Merlin once he’d told him a hundred times to not play with that cat! Hadn’t Arthur told him to be careful, that the cat didn’t like to be cuddled? It was a cat after all, even if it was small and perhaps a smidgeon cute and adorable. Arthur would have to have words with Percival, but first he had to take care of Merlin. Careful not to jostle Merlin, Arthur continued to glare at the cat. He had half a mind to put his sword through it, but he knew that if he did, Merlin would never forgive him, and Percival wouldn’t be happy either. “You are a menace to society, cat,” he said instead, glaring at it, but the look the feline gave him had Arthur thinking that he was the one being reprimanded, not the cat. The thought made Arthur chuckle. “I don’t know who is more the idiot here, you or Merlin.” Arthur made a shooing motion with his hand, but the cat refused to move. Arthur was about to kick it when Merlin opened an eye and cleared his throat. Arthur had been caught. Damn Merlin and his sixth sense! “You leave that cat alone, Arthur. He didn’t do anything to you.” Arthur let out another laugh. Merlin was amazing… an amazing idiot. The amazing idiot that Arthur just so happened to love. “No, but he nearly killed you. Am I not allowed to be upset about that?” Merlin tried to laugh, but grimaced, probably in pain. “If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with me. I was the one who decided to go up there to get the cat. That cat didn’t coax me onto the roof. I am a big boy, Arthur, and I can make my own decisions, believe it or not,” he finished, with more than a little condescension in his voice. All the fight went out of Arthur. As angry as he was with Merlin, and he was plenty angry, he was more thankful. Merlin could have easily been killed in the fall. Silly boy. Hadn’t he been told to stay in bed until he was over the sweating sickness? Gaius had lectured him about how important it was to get his strength back, and he had forbade Merlin to go back to work for a fortnight. The recovery period had seemed excessive to Arthur, but who was he to tell the Court Physician what was right and what was wrong when it came to medical conditions? Yes, he was King of Camelot, but if that qualified him to make diagnoses of the medical persuasion, he hadn’t been informed, thus, until that day arrived he would leave that business to more educated people than himself. “You idiot,” he spat out. “Did you honestly think it a good idea to climb atop the stables and play the hero? What were you doing out of bed anyway? I thought you were on strict bedrest.” Merlin opened his mouth to answer Arthur, but Gaius’s concerned voice rent the air as he called after Arthur and Merlin. “He’ll live, Gaius,” said Arthur, swallowing the words he wanted to say next. “A few bumps and scratches, but I don’t think he was hurt too badly.” Once Merlin was safely back in his bed, Arthur began the inquisition. One question after another, not stopping to take a breath. “Arthur,” Merlin interrupted, rolling his eyes, “Percival’s cat came into my room. I have no idea how he got here, but he did. I decided to take him back. I knew neither you nor Gaius would be happy with me, but I thought I could get there and back before you’d notice I was gone. How was I to know the cat would get away from me and jump up on the roof of the stables?” “So, being the hero you are,” said Arthur, shaking his head in exasperation, “you just had to follow him, didn’t you?” “Yep,” said Merlin, matter-of-factly, obviously quite proud of himself. He put on this cocky attitude far too often for Arthur's liking, but it was one of the qualities Arthur loved so much. “What am I going to do with you, Merlin?” Merlin smirked. “If you want to keep a closer eye on me, Arthur, you could always ask me to stay with you so you can play mother hen.” Such insolence could not be tolerated so Arthur did the only thing he could. He leant over to kiss Merlin. Yes, he would be moving Merlin into his chambers immediately. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin has to reveal his magic in order to save Arthur and Uther arrests him. This is the story of the trial and Arthur's plan to save Merlin. Neither of which go as expected. No Meant to be funny (you be the judge), also shows how much Merlin is loved in Camalot.Some spoilers, nothing big. Set before Lance's death but after Morgana leaves.

“What?” exclaims Arthur, weak with disbelief, because Merlin really just said that there could be no place for magic in Camelot—no matter that this would sentence one of their knights to death.

Arthur Pendragon has it all. He wants nothing more than to be Mr. Pendragon, husband of Sofia Side. But there is one thing stopping her from accepting his proposal: He is not serious. Arthur rallies all of his resources and gets into Harvard, determined to win her back.A Legally Blonde AU in which Arthur is Elle Woods and Merlin is Emmett Richmond/Forrest. There is also a lot of smiles as well as an immense amount of eye-contact and dog cuddles.ART

Arthur leads Merlin to the edge of the forest.

Arthur could see dirt scattered across Merlin’s face and he just walked up and wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist and buried his face in Merlin’s neck.“I’ve missed you,” Arthur said his voice muffled by Merlin’s shirtMerlin chuckled and it rumbled through his entire chest and Arthur could feel every sound.“I’ve missed you too prat,”“Come home, you’re tired I’m tired and I’m sick of waking up alone,” Arthur said gripping Merlin tighter.“Arthur...” Merlin sighed “You know I want to but I can’t say no to these people, their houses have been destroyed. They don’t have anywhere to sleep tonight...” and just as Merlin made to pull out of Arthur’s embrace Arthur held on to him tighter.

Merlin talks in his sleep at night.

Arthur thinks Merlin is cheating, but it turns out he just has a dirty mind.

A domestic scene in Camelot

Merlin and Arthur talk about love while on a hunt.

One of Merlin's spells goes a little bit wrong.

Arthur and Merlin on a hunt when they encounter a strange visitor from the future.Princes, and Servants, and Robots...oh my!

To Merlin, Arthur had three names: prat, Arthur, and sire. Arthur was beginning to recognize the difference between them.A/N: It's not slash if you don't want it to be. I'm just saying it is because I want it to be, but you can go all bromance on it if you want.

Arthur is finding all sorts of reasons to explain how he is most certainly not favoring Merlin. Obviously, no body is convinced, not even himself.

Fluffy Merthur moment. With suits! And a bowtie, of course.

It's Arthur's birthday, and Merlin bakes for his party while Arthur enjoys his birthday with friends.

Merlin decides it's time to show Arthur what a movie is, but it doesn't go according to plan.

Arthur gets angry because of Merlin's confession to being a sorcerer when he tries to save Gwen. Merlin apologises.

Arthur kisses Merlin... And Merlin reacts. Kind of magically.

Merlin and Arthur are told of an article on them in the recent Band magazine. After finally settling down again, emotions run high and Uther steps up his game more.

Arthur and Merlin get ready for an interview, Merlin is nervous and Arthur helps him through it. Uther does not expect the outcome.

Merlin has had enough and makes a life changing choice and Arthur is right behind him and something starts to bloom between the two men.

Arthur organises a romantic dinner with Merlin at the very expensive and well known restaurant 'The Avalon' but has another surprise up his sleeve.

Merlin loved romantic comedies. No matter how much Arthur teased him about it he would drag Arthur at any given time to their local cinema to watch some stupid chick flick.

It's been exactly 10 years of Merlin living in Camelot and working for Arthur, and he just wants to spend it peacefully and in Camelot. Unfortunately, he's been stuck with Arthur on the road for days. Arthur might seem like he doesn't care, but really, he just wants to give Merlin a gift.Humour/Friendship and sheep :DHAPPY MERLIN TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!!!

Arthur doesn't like wearing his glasses

The haunted house is not at all what it seems.

Merlin can't move his legs. Worry and mild panic ensue.

Merlin tries to teach Arthur how to drive in an empty lot, and finds he's way in over his head.

I am going to die, Merlin thought. He did not know where Arthur was, but silently pleaded to who or whatever was listening that Arthur would not pursue him.If he’s even alive, Merlin thought. His heart dropped to his stomach. If these brutes killed Arthur, their destinies ended here, and Albion would never come to be.Please be alive, Merlin pleaded.But don’t come for me.

When Arthur's king, there'll be another way.

Victorian era AU. Agravaine has discovered their secret.

Merlin leaves Camelot abruptly to see his mother in Ealdor. Arthur is left lonely, sleepless, and in need of a good cuddle. The knights step in to help, because what are friends for.

When the largest storm in Camelot history rolls through the city, Arthur has to try and take care of his city before it drowns. Meanwhile, he soon learns he has to take care of his servant as well.

Merlin tells Arthur he's on his own, but very quickly proves that's not the case at all.

He watches over Merlin as he throws the sword into the lake. He watches over him as he collects the reeds around the lake to put on Arthur's boat. He watches over him as Merlin places his hand on Arthur's forehead and breaks down.He watches over him.

Merlin loves to write music, and one day, Arthur catches him writing music right inside Arthur's chambers. He manages to steal a few pages while Merlin runs away embarrassed, but the problem is . . . it's a love song! A love song about Arthur. Oops.

Arthur and Merlin are the proud parents of four puppies a day in the life of their life turns dangerous when something is stalking the little pups.

Merlin had the voice of a god, and Arthur wanted to hear more of it, but he definitely wasn't going to tell Merlin that. He'd hear it some other way.

Arthur loves hugs! And Merlin doesn't mind the least.

Both Arthur and Merlin survive the ending battle and life goes on in Camelot. Arthur notes that Merlin seems particularly distracted and won't let him leave until he explains what's going on. Merlin can't bring himself to lie to him anymore.

Merlin falls in love with Arthur. That's clear from even a cursory watch of this show.So let's talk about this story, about how Merlin falls in love with Arthur and his duty and he calls it destiny but that's not why he stays, because he's terrified by Uther but that doesn't matter.Merlin falls in love with Arthur because he's kind, and he's brave, and he's honorable, and he may not be Good with a capital 'G' but then again, who is? Merlin falls in love with Arthur because Arthur isn't a saint but he's not a monster, because Arthur is flawed and beautiful in his mistakes.Merlin falls in love with Camelot because Arthur loves his country and he shows Merlin how to love it too, because a boy with magic sure isn't going to fall in love with the nation that demands he repress what he is or else face death.Merlin falls in love with the people of this city, cowering and standing and kind and brave and broken. He falls in love with the peasants who trade in the marketplace, the knights who will lay down their lives for Arthur, even the cook who bops him on the head every time he passes.Merlin falls in love. Let's call it what it is.

Arthur remembered exactly three days after Merlin. But not much changed for him. His own feelings about Merlin didn’t require much examination after remembering. Arthur of the past had loved Gwen, sure, but Arthur of the past had also loved Merlin. Arthur of the past didn’t ever bother examining what those feelings meant, they hardly mattered, what with Morgana’s betrayal, and running a kingdom, and needing an heir. Merlin had been his manservant and his friend and he had loved him. It really wasn’t particularly complicated. Feelings in the present seemed to require much more examination. He wasn’t sure why his modern day self had to be so angsty, or perhaps his past self had just been rather shallow.

During a meeting with Queen Victoria, Arthur met Helen Mora. She was an excellent singer. After a successful performance that Arthur set up, he was prepared to leave and go on a tour of the country with her. Merlin, upon hearing that Arthur would leave, couldn't help but feel like Arthur was ashamed of him and the circus.

Merlin helps Arthur, who was injured in a fight with the very griffin that almost killed Merlin. Hurt, a lot of comfort, and the explanation of just why a prince would throw himself in harm's way for a lowly manservant.

When the phone rang, Merlin knew it would be another bad news

When Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic, he does the only thing he can think of to protect him. He sends him away.After his father dies, Arthur sends for Merlin. With a promise for change and a new beginning for both of them.

After The Herald of A New Age, a joking conversation about hugs turns serious as Arthur realizes that Merlin doesn't remember the hug and most of what happened after in A Master of Two Servants. Sickeningly adorable boys.TW: mentions of effects of torture, while it doesn't happen to any character.

Merlin really didn't like Arthur when he first became his manservant, but then ... he falls in love. But he knows it can never be, and even if it could, Arthur would never love him back... Right?Prequel to 'Elizabeth'

Everything went wrong when Arthur ran into his father while out with Merlin. Merlin claimed that things for them weren't written in the stars. So, why not rewrite them?

Merlin's boyfriend Edwin is in hospital after once again beating Merlin up and the police, after talking to Edwin, go and arrest the one who threatened he would kill Edwin if he so much as touched Merlin again.... Arthur.

Everything changed two months ago, but Arthur can't remember.But everyone else can. Vividly.Alternate Title: "To Live Without You Is Madness"

Merlin froze for several seconds before squinting at Arthur across the table. “I feel like I’m definitely misunderstanding the situation here.”Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I really don’t think you are.”“You want me to learn magic?”

Mithian tells Arthur she thinks Merlin is a god. It's a joke, until it's not.

After the almost-hug in 2x06, Merlin is determined to find out why exactly Arthur avoids touching him. Is it because of him? Or is it just Arthur being a prat? Merlin desperately wants to find out, even though he himself isn't sure why. Merthur. First kiss.Written for Merlin/Arthur Touch Fest 2019 by artypendragon on LiveJournal.

Arthur hires a band for his nephew, little Mordred's birthday.What could go wrong?Apparently .... everything.

“Look after yourself out there,” Arthur said.Merlin nodded, his heart growing heavy in his chest. “And you do the same.”Arthur fixed him with a stare that screamed of how much he wanted to take Merlin into his arms, to kiss him breathless and never let him go. Merlin knew, because he was sure in his eyes he wished for the same.

“Atlantis has always had a King,” said Merlin, a worried frown settled on his features. Arthur longed to kiss his worries away, were it not for the impossible task still ahead. “Now, it needs something more.”The Trident’s recovery a constant weight on his shoulders, Arthur returned the intense gaze of his gorgeous companion. “What could be greater than a King?”“A Hero.”---Arthur is a half-human, half-atlantean warrior, popularly known as the Aquaman. Following his world saving feat with his fellow League heroes, he does his best to use his natural abilities for the good of humankind. Enter captivating, fierce Merlin, a Prince of the Seas, who insists on Arthur’s help to stop his power hungry half-brother King Mordred from forcefully uniting the oceanic people to conquer the surface world.The Kingdom of Atlantis needs its one true heir to take the throne, but can Arthur set aside his anger at the people who murdered his Queen Mother for bearing a half-breed? Amid Primordial Creatures, Legendary Weapons and Powerful Sea Sorcerers, Arthur must stop a great war and save everyone, while enduring Merlin’s irresistible self.Easier said than done.

Arthur was very aggravated at Merlin. "Poetry!" he cried. "Poetry!"Merlin just shrugged dumbly."Poetry!" Arthur cried louder. "You know what, just because you're a big girl, doesn't mean you have to makemeto be!"--Merlin tries to teach Arthur poetry. As usual, Arthur uses it to cut corners in romancing Gwen. Merlin is not pleased by this.

As the title suggests, this is a compilation of times when Arthur's touches lingered, and Merlin noticed.

Merlin gets stabbed and gets treated by GaiusMerlin has to be resting or else the numbness Gaius gave him would ware offArthur gets bored looking at Merlin so he runs off to fighthe runs into MorganaMerlin ignores the numbness to go help his friendAltough,Morgana tells Arthur something secretive that Merlin hearsWhat is it?

Merlin and Arthur have their first argument after Merlin risks his life to save Arthur’s.

Everyone remembers that one time they called their teacher ‘mum.’ Maybe it wasn’t that exact situation (called the babysitter ‘Dad’ or called out for ‘Ma’ in the middle of a group of women). Either way, that embarrassing moment has happened to someone at least once in their life, however it happened. It happened to Arthur when he was six.

Merlin is on the run from Cenreds knights and transforms into a puppy. And who should find him but Arthur? Who takes him back to Camelot to become one of his hunting dogs.

From the nightmares the dream begins.'“Yes, but,” Arthur crowded Merlin again, his lips hovering over Merlin’s until Merlin closed the gap between them and covered Arthur’s mouth with his own. “Did you mean it?”'

After discovering Merlin's magic, Arthur needs time alone to sort through his conflicted feelings. With the Winter Solstice rapidly approaching, Merlin leaves clues to show Arthur that magic isn't inherently evil. Will Arthur be able to overcome his sense of betrayal and confess his own secret?

Arthur is injured in a battle, and Merlin is worried.Written for the prompt: Merlin giving Arthur a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Merlin goes on his first patrol with Arthur.

Arthur gets shot!(A modern au one shot that has nothing else with it. I just saw a prompt and went with it)Please be sure to comment as I'd love to hear from all of you!

This is a collection of oneshots forMarry Merthur Month, coupled with lefayart'sMerlin Inktoberprompts. So if you want to see our favourite idiots tie the knot in as many different ways as possible, come on and enjoy the ride.

Arthur is coming back home to his boyfriend but heard some questionable things coming from the apartment and assumes the worst

“MERLIN!” Arthur shrieked as he dove for his sword. Merlin only groaned, raising his arm to push Will’s hand down as the damned idiot laughed wildly. “Keep your goddamn sorcerer in line, I swear to-”“Beware, my prince.” Will interrupted solemnly as he raised his hands to signal complete silence “For my powers will surely turn you into the toad that you are. Bippity Boppity…Make Arthur Hoppity….” He said, wiggling his fingers. Arthur swore loudly. Merlin gave a cough that suspiciously sounded like a laugh before turning to fix his friend with a hard glare.“Stop it.”“He makes it too easy, Merlin. Honestly.”OrWill survived the battle of Ealdor and occasionally comes around to visit Merlin…And torture Arthur.

Prompt: Give Merlin and Arthur a happy ending please.

A king is dead. Long live the king.A servant is missing. Long Live the king.A friend is hurt. Long live the king.A story of how Merlin isn't as strong when it comes to Arthur's words as he likes to believe, and how Arthur maybe needs Merlin more than he's ever going to admit, and how Gwaine would really like it if everyone stopped falling in love with his lover; told in small parts.

Arthur attempts logical deduction. He puts 2 and 2 together and eventually arrives at 4. By detouring past 5.

Arthur had to get Merlin out of Camelot, apparently the idiot has magic and his father, Uther had found out about it. He couldn't lose Merlin, he just couldn't

“Their stories have been told for centuries; Their bodies have been buried in the dust.”Gwaine : about freedomLancelot: about beliefHunith: about childrenGaius: about timeMorgana: about hatredMordred: about betrayalGwen: about emotionPercival: about respectMeilin: about destinyArthur: about us and us alone

Merlin asks Arthur a stupid question.

And they have a soft spot for him.

"Arthur used to think he knew everything about his servant, and to an extent he still did. As shocked as he had been about the incident, this wasn’t exactly something that was unlike Merlin. It was dumb and it came from a place of kindness with a total disregard of himself. The action itself, Arthur understood. What he didn’t understand was why Merlin had kept it to himself."In which Arthur slowly unravels the mystery that is Merlin, and begins to realize just how much he doesn't know.

Merlin and Arthur create a plan to get out of their work for the day

Balinor just died. And instead of comforting Merlin, Arthur tells him not to cry.Merlin is done - and gives Arthur a piece of his mind

There is a room in the vaults of Camelot, where strange objects tick and tick and tick.When Arthur enters the room for the first time, he knows what the room is and what it's for. But because it is magic, he shouldn't be here. His curiosity takes the better of him and he approaches the immortal clock, a legendary one that belongs to no other than Emrys.It turned out that the clocks throw you forward in time and Arthur falls head first into the moments right after his own death.Follow BBC Merlin's series from Arthur's point of view with a little twist. This time, they will get their happy end... even though nothing changes. #canon compliantEdit: I've tried to continue this. I'm sorry but I really can't. DISCONTINUED

When Merlin is tortured for information, Arthur stands vigil by his bedside.orLate Entry for Whumptober 2019, Day 10: Unconscious.

Merlin and Arthur decide to do a Harry Potter marathon

Arthur keeps getting reincarnated at times when he isn't needed, so he keeps dying soon after. The Fates keep sending Arthur back every era or so and each time there is a different flower that represents them.Like many others I'm distracting myself with fic. Hope everyone is well and staying safe ❤️Also I hope this makes sense, I'm sincerely sleep deprived. Enjoy! X

Merlin leaves Lance for Arthur, but is it a case of once a cheat, always a cheat?

“I’m going to propose,” Arthur said.Merlin nearly crashed the car.

Merlin accidentally speaks multiple languages.

“Merlin…” Arthur said as he slowly started to reach for his sword. “Don’t…Move…”“No, no, no! Arthur, it’s alright!” Merlin said as he moved (because obviously he ignored Arthur’s orders and moved) in front of the desk. “She’s just saying hello!”“That’s a dragon.” Arthur informed him. Merlin looked over his shoulder for a moment.“No, it isn’t.”There was a pause.“Yes, it is.”“No.” Merlin shook his head. “It…Uh, is not…A dragon.”“Then what the Hell is it?!” Arthur asked, not letting his eyes drift away from the fire breathing demon. Yeah. That was definitely a dragon. Merlin clicked his tongue before also staring behind him.“It is…A…Bird…”There was another pause.“You’re really sticking with that?”“I am, thank you.”OrMerlin has to convince the King of Camelot that he is not, in fact, in possession of a dragon. Luckily, the rest of the kingdom has already been won over by the baby dragon and is quite willing to aid in this quest.

Merlin had found the rings almost three weeks before Arthur proposed.

When Arthur was sixteen, he was cursed to be a cat.If it wasn't for his mothers ring, he would still be missing, with nobody knowing his whereabouts.Maybe he'd even be presumed dead.He hadn't taken off the ring ever since. Now, as he was king - he decided he deserved a break.Arthur didn't know the ring would only work once...

King Merlin and King Arthur meet on their wedding day, Arthur has not been able to process his feelings properly and marries Merlin out of duty but Merlin vows to make his new husband happy, little did they know that they are perfect for one another, it will just take time.

Arthur knows about Merlin's magic. He's practically always known.He was more concerned over the fact that Merlin kept falling asleep EVERYWHERE.Not that he minds much.

Arthur knew Merlin couldn’t defend himself, so when Merlin insists on going into the woods by himself, Arthur tails him. He’ll ambush him, it’ll be a laugh, right?Wrong.

“Then... then you’re as stupid as you are ugly,” Arthur spat. Merlin gulped, and ran towards the door.“Merlin-“ he heard the scraping of a chair, “Wait,” Arthur said.

..... as if Balinor could be killed by Bandits O.oAlternatively:An alternative take on Balinor surviving and saving Camelot....And then proceeding to hold the entire kingdom hostage, because he has a frigging Dragon at his disposal :)

"Night is falling. The temperature is dropping. Arthur is dying."Merlin doesn't expect it to end like this: Arthur, weak and listless; himself, utterly powerless. But that doesn't change reality. Merlin soon finds himself compelled to make a confession, even if it's the last thing Arthur hears.

Arthur has been with Merlin for four months when he finally decides to tell his father.

Arthur and Merlin just enjoying each other’s company.

At first, it hadn’t crossed his mind- not really- that Merlin may have such a distinct and specific taste in men. It had all fallen into place when one fateful afternoon, Merlin spoke about some Greek hero, some ancient, Hellenic lad by the name of Achilles.or,In which Arthur wants to look like Achilles to win Merlin's heart, but of course, he's missing the whole point.Written for Scruffy Pendragon Fest 2020.Podficby the wonderfulBlazingPeniclsavailable.

Merlin tells Arthur about his magic because it's the right thing to do.That doesn't mean Arthur knows everything.

Arthur is completely in love with Merlin. The problem with this is that Merlin is Morgana’s soulmate, not Arthur’s.Merlin knows that Arthur is his soulmate. But Arthur likes women, and Merlin is a sorcerer, something his scars make obvious. So, he prevents his scars from appearing on Arthur.In a world where your scars show up on your soulmate’s body, how does a warlock hide his true identity? How does a prince cope with loving someone else’s soulmate?

There's a power outage in Merlin and Arthur's flat and its too dark for comfort.

What if Merlin took little Mordred to hide in Arthur's chambers instead of Morgana's? Would Arthur betray his own father in order to help them or would he hand them over to the guards instead?When Merlin bursts through the door and sees Arthur there, he has no idea what the prince will do. But the length to which Arthur is willing to go for Merlin will surprise them both.Set in the episode 1x08 The Beginning of the End.

In a land where Camelot was only a legend, and Arthur and Merlin's destinies intertwined at a young age, our boys still find a way to fight over everything. In the most loving way possible, of course. When everything is a competition, the rules can change surprisingly as you get older, and when you stop competing just to win...well, the results just might surprise you.

Merlin isn't a good servant, understatement of the century, really.Sometimes Arthur doesn't know why he lets him keep the job.

After the season 4 battle with Morgana, Merlin and Arthur have a little talk.

This husk of a man wears Merlin’s face and has Merlin’s magic, but he’s not Merlin. Merlin’s gone. Albion has claimed him as the price for Arthur’s victory at the battlefield.

Merlin saves Arthur like usual except this time there’s no time and nowhere to hide. Words are exchanged and stories told.I wrote this for a taboo challenge thing forever ago. That’s why there’s an absence of usual words and phrases you’d see in a reveal story.

Uther Pendragon is dead.The sorcerer succeeded. And now a new king rules over Camelot and fights wars with the neighboring kingdoms.At his side, his loyal puppet the Shadow. Or as others like to call him: Emrys.The only one who can stop them is Prince Arthur Pendragon.The problem is: Nobody remembers who that is. Not even Arthur himself.

It was a rare occurrence for Merlin to see Arthur with any sort of stubble. He had, of course, seen it before, on longer patrols where conditions simply were not conducive to shaving. But they were not on patrol now and the sight of Arthur’s almost-beard darkening his cheeks against the rich brocade of his pillow was rather different from that same stubble against the rough cloth of his bedroll. On patrol, the shadow on Arthur’s jaw could be mistaken for dirt or general unwashed grime. Here, it made Arthur look older, more mature. Merlin rather liked it.

Arthur; remaining ignorant, finding out, reacting badly, accepting, triumphant.Camelot falls. Pause. Rewind. Move forward once more.

”Merlin Emrys, will you make me the happiest person in the universe and marry me?”

Merlin jumps in front of a spell to save Arthur. They're not injured, and no one can figure out what's happened.Then Arthur and Merlin figure out they're tied together. They can't move further than a few feet apart. How in the hell are they supposed to get on with their lives like this?

Despite being Gaius' apprentice for years, Merlin has never heard of the concept of 'taking care of himself'. A cough is fine, right? Even when every time you get a cough you also get a bad fever?Seems fine to him.

Arthur knows about Merlin's magic. He saw it with his own eyes. The question is what to do now. Merlin lied to him. He broke the law. But Merlin loved Arthur, didn't he?

“Merlin!” a voice rang out into the distance.“Merlin!” it repeated again, the distressed tone only increasing each time.Arthur had repeated his manservant’s name several times now and so far, he’d gotten no results. Safe to say, he was worrying his princely socks off. He firmly shook Merlin’s shoulder, begging for him to wake up on the inside, but on the outside, he was just shouting his name.“Merlin!” he yelled for the tenth time, the man who lay in front of him not responding.‘Well, of course he wouldn’t,’ the back of Arthur’s mind told him. ‘He’s fallen off a cliff for God’s sake.’ORMerlin falls off a cliff and Arthur learns that it's not the first time this has happened. So, Merlin tells Arthur a tale from when he was a boy.

Merlin: Hi, I’m Merlin Emrys!Arthur: And I’m Arthur Pendragon. We’re Camelot’s Striker and-Merlin: Camelot’s Goalkeeper!Arthur: And today we’re going to- ehm-Merlin: Read some Thirst Tweets! Here we go!

this is just a small merlin’s magic reveal that i wrote last night! ft bamf merlin who loves arthur and an arthur who has more than two brain cells

Merlin felt the golden light fade from his eyes as he looked to Arthur, who was standing mere meters away from him. He didn’t even have to look at the King to feel the expression on his face.No sooner had he looked to the other man; Merlin had frozen on the spot. It was as if the world had stopped at their feet and that he and Arthur were the only two people standing in it.ORMerlin reveals his magic to save Arthur's life in the midst of a battle. Wracked with fear for Arthur, he runs away, and Arthur finds himself unable to let Merlin go.

Arthur has been noticing the change in Merlin's behaviour over the past few months. He keeps acting shifty, as if he has something to hide. Eventually, Arthur decides to look into it, and what he finds shocks him.ORThe one where Merlin and Arthur adopt and take care of Aithusa together.(Based on a prompt in my Tumblr inbox)

another tumblr drabble i did today to the prompt "I...I need to sit down"!arthur, again, uses his brain, and merlin saves him...with a dash of protective lance and gwaine

Merlin has anxiety and it’s a tricky thing to deal with. only Lancelot seems to help. Arthur is tired of feeling helpless. He goes to Lancelot to learn how to help Merlin.

Everybody knows about Merlin's magic.Everyone but Merlin.A.N.:// if you have seen this prompt on tumblr by changelink, that's me :)EDIT: Now available in russian: https://ficbook.net/readfic/10942960Thank you so much again, stol27 (ficbook) / 07aker07(insta) for your hard work ^^ :D

A oneshot depicting how Arthur reacts finding out how long Merlin has waited for him.

Arthur and the Knights find out Merlin has magic when he saves them from a bandit attack they were definitely going to lose. Arthur has the nerve to say Merlin knows nothing of loss, and Merlin explodes on him, letting out years worth of pain and suf fering. Arthur , needless to say , is speechless. OR: the one where Merlin finally has a breakdown. Notes I thought about this today and realized how badly I wanted a scene where Merlin finally just let go and let everyone know how much he sacrificed. How he lost everyone who was there for him. So here that is. :) Merlin dropped his outstretched hand back to his sides and felt his golden eyes return to blue. The knights and Arthur looked around in disbelief as they saw all fifty bandits lying unconscious on the ground, the one who was about to deal Arthur a mortal blow lying flat on his back, sword still in hand. Merlin barely had time to breathe out “Arthur” before Excalibur was pointed at his neck. “You’re a sorcerer .” Arthur said, quiet and confused. Merlin tried to nod, but felt the tip of the sword touch him, so he said “yes” instead. Arthur tried to hide the look of outrage, anger , and utter betrayal from his face, but he knew Merlin could see it. He slipped into his kingly mask of indif ference and called out to his knights behind him. “Bind him to that tree and gag him. If he tries to run, kill him.” Merlin’ s eyes widened, but he did not ar gue. The knights drew their eyes away from Merlin to stare at Arthur , shocked he would order such a thing. After a long silence, Leon slowly moved towards Merlin. Merlin simply reached his arms behind his back and walked over to the tree, helping Leon tie himself up. Leon had nothing to gag Merlin with, so Merlin said: “use my neckerchief. If you curl it into a ball it should work.” Leon was confused that Merlin was allowing him to do all this, but he did as suggested, and Merlin was ef fectively gagged. Percival and Elyan stood rooted to the spot, staring at Merlin. Gwaine was staring at Arthur , looking murderous and ready to pounce on the King at any given moment. Arthur was sitting on a log by their long since put out fire, staring into the distance at nothing. He was trying to collect his thoughts; attempting to reconcile the fact that his manservant, his friend and the person he trusted most in the world was a sorcerer , and therefore he was evil. The two things didn’ t connect in his mind, but he had all the evidence right in front of him. Merlin never once took his eyes of f Arthur , trying to figure out what was going on in his head, but the King had closed himself of f, and Merlin couldn’ t read him like he always did. The camp sat in an uncomfortable silence for a long time. Arthur sat staring at nothing, Leon, Percival and Elyan watched Merlin, rethinking everything they had ever known about their friend, and Gwaine sat and watched Arthur unblinking, one hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to jump in to protect Merlin at any moment. The longer Merlin was gagged, the angrier he got. He wanted Arthur to say something. He wanted the sadness and the anger directed at him so he got the chance to say all he had never been able to before. He had to take deep breaths to calm himself down when he felt himself get too agitated. Finally , Arthur spoke up. He couldn’ t even look at Merlin, let alone look him in the eye, but he addressed him anyway . “You’ve betrayed Camelot. Y ou’ve betrayed me. All this time you’ve lied to me and used magic.” Merlin tried to spit the neckerchief out to reply , but he couldn’ t. Arthur kept speaking. “You’ve been my servant for seven years. I trusted you, and you have committed the worst act of treason possible.” The knights were shocked at the venom in Arthur ’s voice as he spat out the words. They had never heard the king that angry , and they never imagined it would be directed at Merlin. “Despite this betrayal,” Merlin felt the first glimmer of hope in hours, “I still believe you have been useful as a servant these years. Therefore, I will not execute you for your crimes.” Merlin knew he should be happy , but the indif ference with which the words were spoken scared him. Arthur continued. “Y ou will stop using magic, and you can continue to be my manservant.” Arthur addressed Leon. “T ake out the gag. Let him speak.” Merlin was angry , but he was also upset. He never expected Arthur to ask him to give up such a part of himself, and he didn’ t even know if he could survive doing such a thing. Leon walked over to Merlin and looked at him with clear apology in his eyes, which confused the warlock. Out of everyone, he expected Leon to react the worst to his magic. Leon removed the neckerchief and Merlin’ s mouth moved before he even had a chance to think about what he was saying. “No.” Arthur finally turned to look at him, eyes narrowed and extremely murderous. “No?” “I will not stop using magic.” “That is your only choice. It’ s that or die.” Arthur felt himself lose conviction as he said the sentence, but he remained firm. Merlin held his head high and stayed put. “I will not. I cannot, stop using magic.” Gwaine felt proud of his friend’ s insistence, while Arthurs carefully created mask of indifference started slipping and he grew irritated. “You can and you will.” “No sire. I cannot.” Arthur bristled at the way Merlin said his title. He had never heard it from Merlin’ s lips when it wasn’ t sarcastic. It sounded wrong. Arthur steeled himself. “Then you will be subject to Camelot’ s laws. Y ou will be tried and executed as a sorcerer , for treason to the King and Crown.” Arthur hoped that would scare Merlin into submission. The other knights looked on, shocked, while Gwaine growled under his breath and started planning an escape route. Merlin laughed humourlessly . “Go ahead Arthur . Take my life. Y ou’ve taken everything else.” Arthur ’s mask slipped again. He wanted to ask what Merlin meant, but he couldn’ t trust anything the sorcerer said. Percival beat him to it. “What do you mean, Merlin?” Percival asked with a softness that Arthur believed Merlin didn’ t deserve. It also hurt more than he expected it to when he watched Merlin’ s eyes soften as he looked at the knights, before hardening once more once he looked at Arthur again. With a deep breath, Merlin launched into what he had been aching to say for years, with a hardness in his tone that surprised even himself. He never dropped eye contact with Arthur as he spoke. “I mean, that I didn’ t choose this life. I didn’ t choose magic. I was born with it. Born with power beyond my comprehension. An ability to do things that aren’ t possible for sorcerers who have studied for a whole lifetime. I came to Camelot to learn control, to get away from a village that saw me as an outcast. What do I get? A position I never wanted in the household of a man who would have me burned just for being born, and the discovery of a destiny that I neither chose nor was able to escape. Do you really think that if I had a choice, I would have chosen this life? Chosen to live my life in fear? Fear of what would happen to me, fear of who and what I am? Y ou have looked me in the eyes for years and told me magic was evil, and I had to sit there and take it because I couldn’ t afford to take the risk of showing you any dif ferent. I didn’ t choose this Arthur , and I am not evil. Neither is magic.” The knights absorbed all that Merlin said, marveling at the power that seemed to be radiating from him. He was so sure of himself, and they couldn’ t understand how they hadn’ t seen it sooner . It felt to them like they were staring at a legend, which by the sound of it, they were. Arthur listened to all that Merlin said, and while he was moved by the words, and he really believed that Merlin was not evil, his father ’s hatred for magic rang through his head and he couldn’ t ignore it. “I have lost so much to magic, Merlin. Even if what you say is true, that’ s not enough to make me believe that magic is not the evil force my father knew it to be. I’ve lost too much.” Merlin scof fed and muttered. “Do not speak to me about loss, Arthur .” Arthur got defensive. “Please. What could you possibly have lost?” “I HA VE LOST EVER YTHING!” Merlin yelled. The knights violently flinched at his volume, while Arthur ’s flinch was almost imperceptible, but it was there, and Merlin noticed. “I have lost everything.” Merlin repeated, much softer . He curled in on himself, not wanting to divulge his pain to the others, but he knew he had to get this out. He had internalized everything for seven years and he could feel the words wanting to spill out. So he started. “My childhood best friend died for you, even though I could have saved him. He died protecting my secret. My best friend in this life, the only person who has ever really , truly known me. The one person who always understood me, who knew when something was wrong, could always tell when I was lying…” Merlin got quieter , almost speaking to himself at that point, and the others strained to hear him. “He sacrificed himself for you so I didn’ t have to.” “Lancelot…” Percival whispered to himself, but the others heard. Merlin looked up at the knight and nodded. He then turned back to Arthur . “He told me that my destiny was greater than his and he sacrificed himself for ME. Not for Gwen, not for you, not for Camelot, for me.” Merlin took a deep breath, and noticed that Arthur ’s resolve seemed to be fading, like he was growing to understand what Merlin had experienced. ‘He’ll never understand’ Merlin thought. “My father died in my arms the day after I met him, by a sword that was intended for me, and you told me that no man was worth my tears.” The knights all gasped, and turned towards Arthur , who looked pale and who’ s mouth was open slightly . “I-I don’ t…” Arthur stuttered. He had no idea what to say . He thought Merlin had never met his father . “And you…” Merlin trailed of f, tearing up. The only person who knew about Freya was Lancelot, and he had only told him once. T alking about her hurt too much. Y et another person he failed to protect. Merlin righted himself, and looked at Arthur with eyes so emotionless it scared the other knights. “The one time I tried to escape my destiny , I was met with a cruel reminder from the gods that I can never have what I want. That I am simply a vessel sent to carry out their will, set with a burden too heavy for one man to bear . I fell in love. W e were going to run away; go live by a lake with mountains and flowers and escape our troubles and our responsibilities. It was the only time I tried to forsake my duties and do something selfish. What happened? She was cursed, you killed her , and I had to clean her blood of f your sword the next day .” As Merlin finished, he cast his eyes away from the pitying faces of the knights, away from Arthur , who looked like he had been struck, and up to the sky , blinking away his tears. “Merlin I…” Arthur had no idea what to say . How had he not known that? How had he never recognized that Merlin was hurting in such a way? “I have lost everything Arthur . And the thing is, I can’ t even blame you. She was cursed, and she was hurting the people of Camelot. Y ou did what you had to do. Y ou didn’ t know it was my father in my arms, so you tried to comfort me with those words. I didn’ t blame you for any of those things then, and I don’ t blame you now . There is no one to blame but myself. It was me who failed to protect and save them.” The knights were shocked. They couldn’ t believe that Merlin blamed himself for everything. If anything, his words solidified to them that he was good, much better than they all thought. He was the strongest man they had ever met. “I know the law Arthur . But I will not apologize for using magic to protect you and Camelot. I am sorry I lied to you. I tried to tell you so many times. In the beginning, I knew it would get me killed, then, when we became friends, I didn’ t want to force you to have to choose between me and your father . Then once you became king…” Merlin trailed of f, not knowing what to say . He finally decided on. “I was scared. I had lived my entire life in hiding and it was just easier to stay that way .” “I don’ t know what to say” Arthur stated. “Let me make it easy for you. I have never had a choice. I was told of my destiny , told that I couldn’ t escape it, and told that I essentially had the weight of all of Albion on my shoulders. Honestly , if I had the choice, I would choose to protect you. All of you. Y ou’re my friends.” The knights allowed themselves to be grateful for that while he continued. “But the fact is, I never actually had a choice. Everything I do, even to avoid fate, seems to cause it. So I am going to give you the luxury of a choice Arthur . You either kill me, or I come back to Camelot and continue to protect you. I’m not asking for anything. I’m not asking for recognition, that’ s never why I did it. I’m not even asking to be anything other than what I already was. I’m simply providing you with your options. Kill me here and now , or I continue to serve you. I will not leave Camelot. I have sacrificed too much just to give up now and not see this through. The only thing I have left to give is my life. I've lost everything...everyone else.” Arthur was speechless. He sat there, staring at his friend, mouth opening and closing because he had no idea what to say . Before he got a chance to say anything, Gwaine spoke. “If you kill him, you lose me.” Merlin turned to look at Gwaine sharply , went to shake his head and tell him not to do anything stupid, but he held his hand up to stop him. Gwaine looked at Merlin. “I was your friend before I was his knight. I saved his life because of you. I came to Camelot because of you. I became a knight because of you, Merlin.” He emphasized ‘you’. “I will not serve a king who does you harm.” Merlin allowed himself to enjoy the warm feeling that formed in his chest at his friend’ s loyalty . He gave Gwaine a small smile, a real one, and the knight replied with one of his rare sincere smiles. “You lose me too.” Percival stood up to make his point. Merlin looked surprised. Percival continued. “While Lancelot and I travelled together , before we came to Camelot, he spoke of Merlin often. He said that Merlin had saved Camelot more times than he could count, and that he was special. V ery special. That he was kind and compassionate and Arthur was incredibly lucky to have him. Of course he never told me how Merlin saved Camelot, or how he was special, but that’ s clear to me now .” The lar ge knight gave Merlin a small smile as he addressed him. “He believed in you, and now that I know you, now that I am lucky enough to consider you my friend, I believe in you too.” Merlin teared up at Percival’ s words, not used to so many sentences coming from him at once. Elyan spoke next. “And me. Merlin protected Gwen. Protected her when I was too much of a coward to come home. Knowing what I know now I’m assuming it was you who cured our father of the sickness that hit Camelot.” Merlin nodded. “I couldn’ t let him die knowing I could save him. I didn’ t want to see Gwen heartbroken.” Elyan continued. “And you confessed to sorcery in Gwen’ s place.” “I wasn’ t going to let her die.” Merlin said with the determination of one who is fiercely protective and caring. Elyan nodded, satisfied. He turned back to Arthur . “If he dies, I am no longer a knight of Camelot.” Arthur listened to his best knights’ testimonies, waiting with bated breath for what Leon would say . The others, to an extent, he knew were there because of Merlin, but Leon had been loyal to him first. He wanted his opinion. Merlin wasn’ t expecting much, but no one predicted what would leave the First Knight’ s mouth. “Y ou will lose me too, sire.” Merlin’ s jaw dropped open, as did Gwaine’ s. Elyan and Percival looked on at their friend, proud. Arthur gestured for Leon to continue. “I used to pride myself on being the person who was most loyal to you, sire. The man who would give his life for yours without hesitation. Until Merlin. I apologize for saying it, but seven years ago, you were arrogant. Y ou were self- absorbed, ignorant of many things, and you were, by all accounts, a prat.” Merlin tried to hide his snort. Gwaine was less successful. Arthur couldn’ t believe what he was hearing, and Leon looked shocked that he had let such a thing out. He continued. “Merlin turned you into a great Prince and King, but an even better man. Y ou are kind and caring. Y ou listen to the plights of your people and you treat all with respect. I do believe Merlin caused these changes in you. I have never met a person more loyal in my life. And if it were to be anyone who could be more loyal to you than I, I am glad it is Merlin. There is not a doubt in my mind that he is good.” Leon turned to smile at Merlin, who replied with a smile so bright and sincere that it actually made Arthur feel better . Leon looked back at Arthur . “If he is as powerful as I believe he probably is, killing him would be killing Camelot’ s greatest defender . I will not serve a King who makes such a decision. Furthermore, I would not serve a King who harms a loyal friend such as Merlin.” Merlin didn’ t say it, but Leon seeing him as more than a weapon, seeing him as a friend first, sorcerer second, that felt better than he could ever describe. “My life was saved by magic Arthur , I have seen firsthand the good it can do.” Leon said. He then asked a question. “Merlin, how many times have you saved Arthur ’s life? Using magic, or otherwise.” “Honestly? I lost count after my first couple months in Camelot.” Merlin said. Arthur looked shocked. “And what do you use the magic for?” Leon was asking the questions, but he never took his eyes of f Arthur . He was standing as the bridge between them. Filling the gaps he knew Arthur wanted but would never ask for himself. “Small things, sometimes. Like when I have one of my ‘funny feelings’ on patrol, it’ s actually my magic sensing that something is wrong. It’ s why I’m always right.” Arthur scof fed before he could stop himself. ‘Not always.’ He muttered under his breath. Merlin gave him a mock glare, but he felt better already . “Anything else?” “I help with bandit attacks. Knocking people over , hitting them with tree branches, making them drop their swords, things like that.” Gwaine laughed. “I knew there shouldn’ t be so many loose tree branches!” Merlin laughed too. “What else have you done Merlin?” Leon was pushing because he knew Merlin must do so much more. Merlin sobered. “I killed the grif fin, with Lancelot’ s help. I defeated the afanc. I killed Nimueh. I defeated Cornelius Sigan. I defeated the Knights of Medhir . I defeated Mor gana’ s immortal army . Any creature that we were told could only be defeated by magic, that was me. Oh! And this.” At that, Merlin created the blue ball of light that guided Arthur ’s way when had been trapped by Nimueh. Arthur gasped. “That was you? But you were dying.” Merlin shrugged. “Gaius told me that I was speaking to you in my sleep, like I could see that you were in danger . Then apparently I conjured the light. Even when I’m dying I’m protecting you.” Merlin joked weakly . Arthur shook his head. “So it’ s you I owe Camelot to.” Arthur said. “Have any of my accomplishments in the last seven years actually been my own?” “They are yours Arthur . I simply helped.” Arthur snorted. “Helped.” Merlin shrugged. Arthur remembered that he was supposed to be angry , and his face hardened again. He tried not to let himself break at the way he saw Merlin’ s face fall. “I need to know everything, Merlin. From the second you arrived in Camelot to now . Everything.” Arthur said. “There’ s a lot you aren’ t going to like. I’ve made mistakes. But those are not the failings of magic, only the failings of me. Please remember that.” Arthur nodded and Merlin spoke again. “Does this mean you’ve made your decision?” Arthur , upon listening to Merlin talk for so long, had for gotten there was a choice to be made. “Decision?” Merlin rolled his eyes. “I gave you two options. Have you decided between them?” Ah. Arthur remembered. He didn’ t let himself get too angry at the way all of his knights straightened and slightly shifted in between him and Merlin. “I have.” “And?” “And even if you hadn’ t done all of that, I couldn’ t have killed you. Y ou can come back to Camelot. Good manservants are hard to come by .” Merlin smiled then, and Arthur had a feeling that everything was going to be alright. “Merlin?” “Yeah?” “Did you only stay because this is supposedly your destiny?” Arthur asked, feigning indifference, but Merlin could hear the insecurities in his question. “No. I told you. Y ou’re my friend. In the beginning, yes, but eventually I saw the man you had become and the king you would be. I wanted to help you get there.” Arthur smiled and then joked: “Ah yes, the man you apparently made me. Isn’ t that right, Sir Leon?” The knight had the decency to look sheepish, but the others laughing let him know that Arthur wasn’ t actually upset. Leon shrugged. “Y ou know I’m right.” Arthur sighed and then said: “Y es I suppose you are.” Merlin chuckled. “I’ll tell you all everything. No more secrets.” Arthur nodded. “I’m sorry for those you have lost Merlin. I am especially sorry about your lost love.” “Freya. Her name was Freya.” Arthur smiled slightly . “A beautiful name.” “Yeah, she was.” Merlin said, more to himself than anyone else. Merlin plastered on a fake grin, one that Arthur had seen a hundred times before, and he cursed himself for never having realized how false it was. He had let himself be placated by that face before, but he never would again. Merlin readied himself to tell them of everything he had done. “W ell my friends, I believe it’ s time for a story .” Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!

“I’ve brought you flowers.”“Oh, these are fantastic, Arthur! Truly. Gaius will be so pleased. We can never afford roses.”Merlin found what he was looking for – a knife – and turned back to the roses. Arthur let out a strangled sound as he sliced off the heads of the roses, tossing the stalks away.“Roses have so many health benefits,” Merlin offered conversationally. “They can help reduce pain, depression, anxiety, stress… You're getting quite good at identifying the right flowers for medicinal use!”------In which Arthur keeps getting Merlin flowers and Merlin keeps thinking they're for medicinal use.

Merlin wants to stop Arthur from going on another stupid quest assigned to him by Uther, but he believes he isn't worthy enough for Arthur to listen to him.OrMerlin believes he's nothing more than a good fuck for Arthur.

Post-s04e7 AU where Arthur didn’t simply forget that, with Gaius venerated, they still have a traitor is still in their midst.

“I think I’m going to be your manservant,” Merlin announces, one day, and Arthur almost chokes on thin air. “No,” Arthur says, because Merlin is a god, for – someone’s sake, and Arthur doesn’t want the first noble to raise their hand for a reprimanding slap turned into a worm, or something worse. Merlin simply frowns, petulant. “Why? I think I’d be quite good, if I got the hang of it.” Arthur presses his hand over his eyes, a pounding headache in the making, and sighs. Or: Merlin wants to spend more time with Arthur, and thinks becoming the prince's manservant is a splendid idea. Arthur disagrees. Part 2 of the Chasing Spring series. Notes Thank you so much to all who have read, bookmarked, commented, and kudosed Chasing Spring! I was very seriously blown off my feet :] Now, the Sequel. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. :) See the end of the work for more notes “I think I’m going to be your manservant,” Merlin announces, one day, and Arthur almost chokes on thin air. “No,” Arthur says, because Merlin is a god, for – someone’s sake, and Arthur doesn’t want the first noble to raise their hand for a reprimanding slap turned into a worm, or something worse. Not to say, of course, just how fundamentally wrong the whole idea is. Merlin, though, looks blissfully unawares of Arthur’s concerns, because he simply frowns, petulant, and replies, “Why? I think I’d be quite good, if I got the hang of it.” Arthur presses his hand over his eyes, a pounding headache in the making, and sighs. Whatever has led up to this? Well, to understand that, first – Arthur must go back to a few weeks ago, back when it had still been early spring. When Arthur had called and Merlin – Emrys – had answered. ◈ It takes a while for Arthur and Merlin to find their footing. Even settling on a name is difficult. Arthur spends days fluctuating wildly between ‘Emrys’ and ‘Merlin’, settling for a strange blend of the two more often than not. It’s a terrible mess, until the god corners him one day and puts his finger on Arthur’s mouth, firm. “I told you once, and I’ll tell you again,” he says. “It’s Merlin. To you; only to you.” It feels like Arthur has been given a priceless gift, a piece of the god himself, and Arthur can’t even begin to fathom the worth of it. Arthur simply nods, wordless. It is Merlin after that. There’s a whole other mountain of issues too, though, starting with the fact that Arthur’s significant other could crush Arthur like an ant with less effort than lifting a finger. It’s vaguely disturbing, and also quite terrifying, especially when Arthur suspects that they’re headed towards an argument. Arthur still remembers, in vivid detail, how Merlin had been when facing down those wyverns – it is something he would be happy to never see ever again, and especially never aimed towards him. He remembers the blinding light, the heat, searing-hot like a strike of lightning and several times more terrifying, the way the fabric of reality had seem to twist and spin about them. Arthur prides himself on his courage, but it takes a while even for him to stop walking on eggshells around the god. It doesn’t help that Merlin gives him those looks whenever he catches Arthur at it, fleeting glances under downturned lashes that are chock-full of hurt and regret and why-don’t-you-trust-me’s, and they cut Arthur straight to the bone. But Arthur is only human, too, and Merlin is a lot to take in, even in his least threatening of forms. Even as they settle into something like a routine, early morning and late nights spent curled together in Arthur’s spacious, princely bed, moments stolen in between patrols and training and negotiations, that edge of apprehension never quite leaves Arthur’s mind. Merlin’s eyes are touched with regret under the smudge of his lashes, but he doesn’t call Arthur out on it. Arthur suspects he doesn’t quite know how. It isn’t perfect, and the fact that Arthur is having an illicit affair with the very god who’d cursed Camelot right under Uther’s nose lends it an edge of secrecy and urgency that has Arthur’s heart beating hard and sweat beading in his hands. There are still so, so many things Arthur and Merlin ought to work out, so many hurdles left to jump – still, it’s without doubt the best thing Arthur has ever had, and he cherishes every moment, every single second of it. He memorizes how Merlin’s skin feels under his fingers, almost crackling with electricity but not quite, how Merlin’s stormy eyes catch the orange of Arthur’s chambers and turn into something indescribably fey and enchanting. He memorizes the glint of light on his cheekbones, his quick laugh and even quicker wit, how Arthur (with increasing courage) would poke fun at him and how Merlin delights in it each and every time. Merlin smiles at him, sometimes, and Arthur thinks – Merlin knows, too, and he loves Arthur all the more for it. “I don’t ever get to see you during the day,” Merlin complains as soon as Arthur sets foot into his chambers. To his credit, Arthur doesn’t start and drop the torch on his foot or anything terribly awkward like that – he is getting used to having an all-powerful god as a lover, he supposes. Arthur wonders if he ought to be more disturbed than he is. It helps that Arthur has probably seen the boy – god – at his most human, though. Working himself up over Arthur’s moods, awkward kisses and fumbling touches about his shirt-sleeves, and, most of all, the tendency to conveniently magic himself away whenever he manages to dig himself into yet another awkward situation. In those respects, it’s almost like having a boy of a lover - (albeit a superpowered one who could raze Camelot to the ground should he be so inclined, but, well, technicalities.) The god is draped across Arthur’s bed, chin resting on his hands, garbed in a strange, flowing tunic that highlights his fine cheekbones and the startling blue of his eyes. The first time he’d shown up in Arthur’s chambers wearing that, Arthur had told him he looked ridiculous. (Merlin hadn’t, to be honest, but anyone else would have, and there was something so terribly infair about that.) Merlin had laughed at him then, eyes dancing, and called Arthur a prat right before drawing him close and kissing him senseless. Arthur smiles, fond and apologetic, and says, “There are always people, during the day.” “You know I could do something about that.” “I’d rather – you didn’t.” Arthur grimaces as soon as the words leave his lips. He sounds horrifically ungrateful, which he most definitely isn’t – he doesn’t know much about gods, but he does understand that Merlin must care a lot about him if he deigns to lurk about in the shadows of Arthur’s chambers, waiting for him, when he could just as easily have had all of Camelot bowing at his feet. “I mean – I wouldn’t feel comfortable, affecting people like that.” The memory of an endless winter, cold winds that cut like a knife, is still too raw in his mind. Merlin’s eyes meet Arthur’s, and the understanding there is something both sad and resigned. Merlin sighs. “Yes,” he says, “I know.” Then an intangible force is reaching forth to draw Arthur across the room, right into Merlin’s waiting arms. Arthur grunts in surprise. “Some warning next time might be nice.” Sometimes, Arthur marvels at how much he is allowed to get away with – he is sure that with some gods, he would have been struck down for disrespect before he could even say ‘Oh.’ Arthur can feel Merlin’s smile against the skin of his neck, and again, he marvels at how human this god of his is, how warm, how solid. A sudden warmth jolts through him, and Arthur runs his fingers carefully down the flawless skin of Merlin’s arm, soft, reverent. “You could make up for it by giving me a hug right now,” Merlin suggests, and Arthur complies. Who is he to deny Merlin, after all? A few days later, Merlin is waiting for him again, legs dangling off the edge of his bed, a giant smile gracing his face. It’s the smile Arthur has unofficially dubbed Merlin’s Face of Mischief, that face he gets whenever he’s planning something awfully absurd and un-godly, and Arthur bites his lip. “Yes?” he asks, expectant. Merlin pouts. “You don’t know that I have something to tell you,” he says. “For all you know, I might just have dropped in because I was unbearably bored.” “I happen to know you better than that.” Merlin smiles back at him, then, and his smile is wide and open and happy. “Yes, I know.” he pats the empty space beside him, wrinkling the pristine bed-covers. Arthur heads over, limbs aching; it had been a long day of training that day. The air about Merlin smells like fresh grass and spring flowers, despite Arthur’s chamber windows having been closed for the better part of the day, and Arthur huffs a laugh at the impossible creature before him. “So, what is it?” “I’ve been thinking about that – problem,” Merlin says, waving a hand to indicate Arthur and himself. Arthur raises a brow at that. “You know, Mer lin - ” “You can’t read minds, I know.” They share a grin at that – a campfire shared, a blanket of snow, icy winds that had somehow never quite touched the two of them. “I think I’m going to be your manservant.” Arthur almost falls off of the bed. “ What? ” “It would be so fun,” Merlin grins, eyes sparkling. That’s not a good sign – Arthur usually finds himself wanting to give Merlin anything he wants when he looks like that. It’s unfair, really; that Merlin can look so delicate, so vibrant, when Arthur knows just how much he is under that facade, how – powerful . Merlin is persistent; Arthur really must give him that. “I’ll have you know,” Merlin says, later, “I think I’d actually be quite good at it.” He waves a hand, and the clutter on Arthur’s desk immediately rights itself, motes of dust streaming off of the desk and out of the window. “See? Perfect maintenance. It doesn’t even take any time.” Arthur gawps. That’s a new way to houskeeping, for sure – except for the fact that were it anyone but Merlin, who Arthur knows is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, they would probably find themselves on the chopping block before they could say “execution!”. “You do know that servants serve , right?” The idea is wrong on so many different levels, and Arthur doesn’t even know where to start. Maybe that Merlin happens to be a god, all-powerful and immortal, and there’s something intrinsically wrong about somebody serving you when they could just as easily destroy the five kingdoms in a blink. “I understand, sire ,” Merlin says, and there must be something fundamentally wrong with Arthur that the thing makes his heart jolt and his blood uncomfortably warm. Arthur shifts, and Merlin gifts him a knowing look and a smile. “But – think about it. I could be next to you, beside you, every single moment, and no-one would ever question us.” Merlin bites his lip. Arthur’s eyes track it, the faint indent in Merlin’s lower lip, the way it turns Merlin’s expression into something halfway to a pout and also something horribly enticing. “At least give it some thought.” “You’d have to see my father,” Arthur blurts out, because – that is true; the prince’s manservant can’t not see the king, and Arthur isn’t sure what Merlin might do when he comes face-to-face with his friend’s killer. Arthur has seen Merlin in a rage, before. It isn’t anything pretty. Merlin’s expression darkens, and the air crackles with power, an almost-audible snap whipping through the air. The fine hairs on Arthur’s arms stand on end. Merlin spares him a quick glance, and with a barely-there, regretful shake of his head, Arthur can breathe again. “I’ll – manage.” Merlin’s profile is pensive, half-drawn in shadow from the candlelight, and again, it looks terribly old, dark, weathered. Arthur fights the urge to draw him into his arms and never let him go. He isn’t sure that Merlin would appreciate it, much. He settles for an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. His smile is wan but appreciative, and he worries his lip for a while before he speaks again. “It doesn’t mean that we’d be the best of friends, far from it,” he says. “Nor will I let any sorcerers die, not when they’ve committed no crime, when I could to something to help. But – you know what happens, when I try to take matters of justice into my own hands.” Arthur knows. The starving face of his people, dark and drawn and desperate, the grief and anger; the cold . A shiver runs, involuntary, down his spine. “I think,” Merlin says, “that I need to learn – to watch, and not interfere.” Arthur squeezes his fingers in answer. Arthur still thinks that it’s a horrible idea, though, and he tells him so. Merlin merely gives him an enigmatic grin and shrugs. “Well,” he says, “we’ll see about that.” Merlin meets Gaius a little while after that. Merlin has been absent for several days, now, on what Arthur supposes is some mysterious godly business that mere mortals like him is not privy to. Meanwhile, Arthur has managed to injure his leg during training – a hairline fracture, nothing more, Gaius had said, but the elderly physician had added that he would feel a lot more comfortable if he were able to come check on Arthur in regular intervals. Gaius is more of a father to Arthur than his father has ever been, and Arthur can’t bear to be the source of his concern. His leg is still bad enough that it wouldn’t be wise for him to go about traipsing down the castle’s stairs, so Gaius comes to him. Merlin hasn’t been around for a while, Arthur reasons, so it should be safe – except, well, Arthur has never really had good luck with these sort of things. Gaius is bent down in front of Arthur’s knee, some mysterious physician’s instrument in hand, long and tapered and hollow, tapping at the bone and sniew around his injury – when Merlin materializes with a faint pop, behind him. Arthur makes a frantic motion with his hand to turn around and go away, because you can’t afford to out yourself so soon, no – but Merlin’s curiosity is an insatiable thing once it’s roused, and Merlin has that twinkle in his eyes that drives Arthur absolutely crazy approximately two-thirds of the time, and Arthur knows that he’s done. Absolutely, irrevocably done. Merlin’s eyes narrow, shrewd, as he gives Gaius a once-over, and it is almost as if he is dissecting the man below his gaze, seeing inside him, through him, and his head tilts in recognition. “Ah! You must be Gaius,” he says, voice amiable, friendly smile gracing boyish, fey features, and Gaius actually topples sideways in his hurry to turn around. Arthur cries out, lurching forward, because despite anything Gaius may say he is old and his bones brittle, and there is no way by the gods that a nice tumble may be beneficial to his health. Merlin is faster, though – a warm gust of wind sweeps the physician off his feet and deposits him gently onto a chair, which scoots across the room and turns to face Arthur’s bed. A warm tingle runs through Arthur, almost a caress, and the soft hairs at the nape of his neck crackle and shift. Merlin makes himself comfortable on the bed. He is in a bit more traditionally Camelotian attire, today, a simple homespun blue tunic over comfortably stretched breeches, feet bare and a few stray flowers wound into his hair. It does nothing to hide the sheer presence of him, though; the fire in Arthur’s fireplace flickers and curls, like a dog eager to come closer to its master, and the scent of fresh grass fills the air. Arthur has seen the pictures in Gaius’ books. It is unmistakable, really; and Gaius must have come to the natural conclusion, too, because his eyes widen, almost comical, his mouth splitting into a wide smile of joy, of reverence and exultance and everything in between. His eyes are glinting, and when he turns, Arthur thinks he sees a hint of moisture too. “Emrys,” he whispers, and collapses into a bow at Merlin’s feet. “ Emrys .” His voice is stronger the second time around. It should have been hilarious, really, because Gaius could have been his grandfather, white hairs and all, and the scene of Gaius paying homage to a boy who looks younger than Arthur himself is so ridiculous it isn’t even funny. But there is something about the way Merlin’s presence fills the room, every crack and seam and corner, the way he looks utterly inconspicuous yet could never be mistaken as such. The heavy air in the room is like an old prayer returned – reverent, solemn, and Arthur holds his breath. “Really, Gaius,” Merlin says, helping the flustered physician up, “you shouldn’t. Arthur practically thinks of you as his father, and even he doesn’t bow to me – now, sit, sit. That can’t have been good for your bones.” And the spell is broken. “My bones are better than they have ever been,” Gaius says, his characteristic dry humor returning now that he’s regained his feet some, and from the accusing look he’s leveling at Merlin Arthur suspects the god has had a lot to do with that. He sighs, though he probably just looks fond and besotted – he shouldn’t have put it past him to do something in that short span of time, being apparently the ‘greatest’ and all that. “So – you and Arthur?” The innuendo in the old man’s voice is unmistakable, and Arthur flushes to the roots of his hair. “Gaius!” “Well, my boy, you did say...” “I did not say anything whatsoever,” Arthur asserts, leveling a glare at Gaius, and Merlin laughs. “It’s alright. You are adorable, after all.” “Adorable!” Arthur jumps, indignant. “You’re one to say that. As far as I remember - ” “I could still turn you into a squirrel, you know. Adorable.” Something warm feels Arthur’s heart, right then, that they’ve come to the point where they can joke about things like this without feeling as if they’ve destroyed something small, fragile, budding. That is why Arthur fires right back, “watch out. First thing I’ll do is bite you in the toes.” Gaius watches their banter with his trademark raised brow. It’s almost as if half of him is set to pull Arthur aside and give him a long lecture on how to treat his betters, and the other half just wants to give in and laugh hopelessly until he’s gasping for breath. After a little while, though, the ruckus calms enough for Gaius to turn towards Merlin, back straight and eyes serious. “Thank you,” he says, and his voice holds the weight of a thousand words. Arthur doesn’t need words to understand what he is thanking Merlin – Emrys – for. He remembers Gaius’ face as he had recounted William’s execution, the light of joy on his face as he’d welcomed back the spring, that first time in years, ground overflowing with flowers and grass, butterflies clouding the air. Merlin doesn’t make light of it, for once. He sits, serious, features as if carved in wood, the faint light of Arthur’s fireplace sending spots of gold flickering across his face. He has never looked more a god, never looked more a weary immortal. “I am not sure,” he says, “if I deserve your thanks. You do understand, old one, that I was the one to blame, the one who brought the curse upon you.” “Far be it of us to dare presume to know better than the gods,” Gaius replies, making a strange gesture that Arthur does not recognize, but Merlin unmistakably does. An air of fondness permeates his features, a faint melancholy towards a time that once was, that is no more, and he smiles. “Ah, so you do follow the old ways. I had long suspected.” “Indeed.” Gaius pauses for a moment, his gaze far away, then he adds: “You listened to Arthur. It is not the way of the gods, to take counsel from mere mortals.” “He is not a mere mortal,” Merlin replies, voice soft, and a tendril of his power curls around Arthur’s wrist, light but possessive. “And you were never mere mortals to me.” “Your power deems you the greatest,” Gaius says, “but that – is why I bow before you. My lord, know that I am forever pledged to your will.” It is doing strange things to Arthur’s mind, to hear Gaius, of all people, call Merlin, again, of all people, his lord. It is in moments like these that he realizes just how foreign Merlin is, how different indeed – he bites his lip, presses his fingers against his knees. They have tightened into fists on his legs, before he’s even noticed, and from the brief, flickering look Merlin gives him, he’s seen, too. “Then come forth, Gaius,” Merlin beckons, and Gaius kneels before him, reverent. Merlin presses the tips of his fingers to his mouth, then against Gaius’ forehead. Arthur feels a faint rustle pulse through the air, a quiet rush of power, and Gaius gasps, eyes blown wide. “Gaius?” Arthur asks, quizzical. “A blessing,” Gaius replies, and there are tears in his eyes. Arthur doesn’t ask further. Gaius visits Arthur’s chambers several more times after that. Arthur suspects that it is more to catch a glimpse of Merlin than to treat him, because his leg is nearly healed, now, and he teases Gaius incessantly about it. “Eager to see him, aren’t you?” he grins, and Gaius flushes, ducking his head. Arthur can’t decide whether to be amused or disturbed; he has never seen Gaius this flustered, ever, and it is an image he would have been happy never to have seen. “It’s Emrys ,” Gaius says, by way of explanation. To followers of the old religion, that’s apparently explanation enough. Arthur lets it be. Merlin joins them, sometimes, though sometimes he whisks Arthur away for some ‘private time of their own’. (Arthur certainly isn’t complaining.) Merlin, for all his godliness, has always had a way of putting people at ease, with his ready smile and quick words, and Gaius soon warms to the god enough to begin fussing over him, too. Merlin complains right back, and Gaius brightens considerably at that, almost as if he’s always considered Arthur his only son and now he’s got another to call his own. “I’m adding you to my list,” Merlin grumbles, jabbing a finger at the man. “I think being an owl would suit you.” “Nonsense,” Gaius replies, “you should still eat breakfast, you know. Being a god doesn’t mean that you’re invulnerable.” It does, probably, but Arthur doesn’t correct the man. Some days, it almost feels as if he’s grown a little family of his own, right here in the privacy of his chambers. Watching Gaius lecturing Merlin and the boy – god – grumbling right back, usually ending up snaking his fingers through Arthur’s and sending him a look that reads ‘please save me now’, never fails to bring a smile to his lips. “So, milord,” Gaius says, who absolutely refuses to refer to Merlin in anything but the honorific, “will I be seeing you more around the castle?” “Yes,” Merlin says, at the same time that Arthur says, “No.” He’s found yet another reason why Merlin’s plan won’t work; if Gaius’ old tomes have bloody illustrations of the boy, what’s to stop the rest of the world finding out? Uther would try to have Merlin beheaded right away, and Arthur had a very bad feeling that it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. (He’d told Merlin this, of course. Merlin had simply smiled and pointed out that anyone who had such knowledge would be either ally or foe, and if it were foe, Merlin could simply strike them down. Arthur, thinking back to Merlin’s last bout of smiting – a crater, lots of blinding light, and a lot of pain involved for those being smote down – had disagreed. Vehemently. ‘Oh, I could just make them forget, then,’ Merlin had said, terribly blasé, and that had been that.) Gaius raises an eyebrow. “Do try to get this spat under control before it grows out of hand,” he says, in his best listen-to-me voice, and Arthur groans. “ Gaius .” Arthur doesn’t have much time to mull over the issue after that, because apparently some great singer – Lady Helen of Mora – is going to come sing at Camelot’s feast, and Uther is determined to make it the most lavish one yet. Thank gods for the plentiful spring, Arthur thinks to himself as he rushes about with a list of things to check over, because otherwise they’d have been hard-pressed to prepare the appetizers alone. The head cook, apparently, had got this great dream of a soup with spring pumpkin and squash that could feed three hundred, and Uther had approved : nothing less for his Great Feast. Bloody feasts. Arthur will be glad when they manage not to get half of Camelot’s farming population broke for this. Still - “She’s apparently a great singer, though,” Arthur tells Merlin one night, as he lies spread across his bed, still clothed, bone-weary and too tired to even lift a finger. Merlin waves his hand, a languid roll, and before he knows it Arthur is down to his smallclothes and tucked snugly into the sheets. Sometimes, Arthur thinks, it’s wonderful to have a lover with mystical powers. Especially when they use it to help him out with everyday tasks like this. “Hmm,” Merlin says, and is gaze is a thousand miles away. He tilts his head, as if pondering something, and Arthur shifts a little under the sheets, curious. “Why? Do you know something about her?” “Not – really,” Merlin hums, before shaking his head, absent-minded. “You’re tired. Sleep.” Arthur tries to protest, but his eyes slide closed almost as if obeying Merlin’s command, and – it’s just so unfair, that Merlin can send him to sleep with a thought, when Arthur is hard-pressed to even fathom what the boy – man – god – is thinking. Sleep claims him soon, though, a black, welcoming tide, and it isn’t long before Arthur gives in. Lady Helen is a striking woman with dark hair twisted in a elaborate knot atop her head. She is everything Arthur had thought a famed singer would be, to be honest, with a rich, dulcet voice and just the right amount of pomp, gestures crisp and laced with an expectation to be obeyed, right that instant, or else . A maid dies during her stay, and Arthur tenses for a moment, half-expecting Uther to scream, ‘sorcery!’ and demand a search of all chambers, because Uther’s paranoia only grows with the years, and sometimes anger can cloud even rational thought. The days pass by without a fuss, though - ( servants, Arthur remembers bitterly, are hardly ever thought of as people. Of course Uther would not have noticed. ) - and before Arthur knows it, it’s the day of the feast. The feast is just as opulent as Uther had willed it to be, if not more so. It is a statement of sorts, strong and clear, that Camelot is no longer weak - that anyone who wishes to take her riches as his own will have to go through this first. Arthur acts pretty much as a crown prince is expected to act, a routine well-learned through years upon years of repetition. Arthur knows – perhaps better than anyone – how to smile courteously, to lend an ear to everyone within a foot-long radius without leaving a single thought of dissatisfaction or neglect. Arthur knows, too, how to glitter and shine and become someone people will gravitate towards, center around, and for all the noble-ladies and young men that flock around him, Arthur would much rather be anywhere else. He is lulled into a half-trance before the feast is halfway over. But his sense of normalcy flies out the window the moment he spots a flash of stormy blue, both familiar and out of place. Merlin must have done – something, like the first time they’d met, because he seems a simple country boy for all means and purposes right now. He’s garbed in rough, simple brown clothes, and a red neckerchief hangs about his neck. The boy fits seamlessly into the tapestry of the feast, just another servant with a quick smile and a jug of ale at the ready. Arthur gapes. Merlin gives him a cheeky grin and gestures for him to look away. “Can’t be caught staring at a servant,” he mouths, or at least Arthur thinks that is what he meant – can’t be so sure from so great a distance – before he turns and is gone. No-one seems to notice anything out of usual. Not that many nobles make a habit of memorizing their servants’ faces, but still. Merlin is going to be the death of him, Arthur thinks, and raises his goblet for yet another toast. The night is young; Arthur still has a while to go before he can retire to the privacy of his chambers. The night cannot pass any faster for him. Eventually, the conversation tapers off, the people’s bellies mostly sated and lulled into a pleasant, drunken haze by the wine and ale that had flowed freer than water this night. Customarily, it is now the time for the King’s speech, but today there is a special guest – though jesters and travelling minstrels are often summoned to entertain Uther’s guests, it is not often that a lady of such renown deigns to sing for the King. It is such that someone now announces lady Helen of Mora, and polite applause fills the room in polite, scattered swells. “It is an honour to sing for you all tonight, in front of such noble lords and ladies,” the woman says by way of an introduction, confident, it seems, that her reputation has preceded her. She sweeps into a low curtsey, the plunging low neckline of her gown pulling taut around her shoulders, glittering silk and tasteful jewels shining dully in the orange light of the hall’s torches. Then, she begins to sing, and - Darkness. ◈ To be honest, Emrys – no, Merlin, always Merlin, to Arthur, as he had been to Will – had known who and what exactly this ‘Helen of Mora’ was, the moment she set foot in Camelot. The woman was a skilled sorceress, Merlin could give her that, but still – her mortal glamour is no match for the Sight of a god. Especially not if the god is Merlin, who has always been a little strange, a little different, even among the gods. He doesn’t even have to sift through her mind to pick out the suffocating taint that is her ill-will. He tries not to, nowadays, because he knows well enough that mortals cannot read him in return, and it feels unfair to take advantage of them as such. So he had not even been searching, not even trying to look, but she projected her hatred like a weapon, black and harsh and putrid, and Merlin would have been hard-pressed not to notice. He entertains the thought, for a moment – should he go, strike her down before she can stir up any mischief? Uther’s safety he cannot care less for, but if it is Arthur that she is after – no, he cannot bear that. Arthur is soft and fragile enough as it is, trapped in the brittle shell of a mortal’s, burning bright like a flame but just as short, and if his time with Arthur is cut any shorter than it already is - No. No. But he has learned his lesson, he thinks, and he cannot justify choking short her life when she hasn’t even done anything, yet, so he bides his time, and watches. The original lady Helen, Merlin hears, had been set to sing for the King’s court at the grand feast to mark the return of spring. If she truly wishes for revenge, payback, then - Oh. The sorceress is a creature of magic, at heart, and as thus she could never hide from him. The webs of her plan sift through Merlin’s consciousness in a ragged rush, and Merlin has to clamp down on his power, hard, so as not to lash out at her, drag her forth and demand her to speak in her defence before him, Emrys the Great, the scythe, the reaper, the judge. A son for a son - Arthur. No. But once the instinctive fit of rage has passed, he remembers, with the bitter taint of regret, what he had done for Will – and, he supposes, he really isn’t in any position to judge the woman. How she chooses to use her gifts does not please him – Magic, to him, had always been something to rejoice in, something of life and rebirth and making ragged things whole. Still. There has been so much hate, so much strife, so much pain and loss and anger that Merlin cannot blame any of them for wishing to hurt the enemy as much as they had been hurt – for wishing to take as much as has been taken from them. Sometimes, Merlin wishes that gods, too, were perfect, and that he had a solution ready for every ill, every wrong; that he could just snap his fingers and make everything right again. But alas. Merlin thinks this is how mortal headaches must feel; he grinds the heels of his palm into his eyes, another vice of Arthur that he’s picked up, and sighs. A wry smile graces his mouth. Well, he will think of something, when the time comes – it is still a while, yet. And it has been long since he has been able to attend a mortal feast, of any sorts. He might as well enjoy himself. He does. His mortal form must be pleasing enough on the eyes, he supposes, because plenty of nobles deign to look at him twice, to wait and ask his name, to ask him to bring them another round of this ale, won’t you? It’s rather sweet to-night. Merlin has lived long enough, at least, to know that they do not refer solely to the ale. He simple smiles, flirtatious and light, and goes to do what he is told. Arthur finds him, eventually, and his horrified expression is so exaggeratedly comic that Merlin would capture it in a painting and hang it in his chambers, if he could. Merlin simply grins, that carefree smile he has grown so good at, and mouths at him to go mind his own business. Never so good, he supposes, for a prince to be shown harboring too much affection for a single servant. He does not have to wait long for the sorceress – Mary Collins, he learns, because he feels the pulse of her magic, leashed tight about her, and it is like a beacon that calls out to him, as clear as day – to enact her plan. The witch weaves her spell like a tapestry. It would have been beautiful, had it not been for the rage that permeates every thread and strand of it, and Merlin watches, blood rushing behind his mortal form’s eyes, as the first sparks of the spell begin to fill the air. He waits until the first stage of her spell is finished, and every soul in the room – man, woman, children alike – lie, limp, trapped in a deep sleep. Mary Collins gathers her magic, then, for a second heave, and Merlin feels how she calls upon her power, how she urges the old walls of the castle to hasten to their rest, feels the grains of stone weaken, brittle, the walls shaking with the strain as Camelot slowly, inevitably, begins to crumble. Now. Stop , Merlin commands, flexing his will. Power, raw and pure and golden, rushes to his fingertips, and he stretches, feeling the entirety of the castle about him, breathing, trembling. Be whole . The sorceress’ will batters against his own, but it is like fighting a river with a paddle, an avalanche with a needle, and soon she subsides, worn, exhausted. It is a battle with a fixed end, Merlin supposes, human sorceress against immortal god, and though Merlin has come out on top – he feels sick, faintly tired, like he is – taking advantage, somehow, making light of her trifles. Merlin lets go. The castle walls shudder, a long, invisible sigh escaping their cracks, and still. Mary looks about, a frenzied light in her eyes, as if grappling for what, who, has dared to stand in the path of her revenge. Her eyes settle on Merlin, soon, the only figure except her in this room who still stands, and when she says, “you,” it is more of a feral growl than actual speech. “Me,” Merlin agrees, then lets his glamour fall. He hasn’t ever looked at himself in a mirror in this form, but he can imagine what Mortals see – a golden light, perhaps, a manifestation of the power that is him. Perhaps he stands straighter, walks surer. Leastways nothing like the country boy he so loves to pretend to be. “You are a god.” the old witch says, and there is resignation in her voice. “Yes,” Merlin replies. “You are here to stop me, are you not?” she asks, her voice bitter. She laughs, a harsh, self- deprecating sound, and lets her glamour fall. Young, flawless skin sloughs into wrinkles and sun- spots, her entire figure hunching over, frail, weak, defeated. “I have heard tales, you know, when I was young: that the gods are watching you, that they will judge you for your actions – that if you used your gifts for ill, they will strike you down. I suppose destroying Camelot would count as a sin, if nothing else.” She shrugs. “But what could I have done? It is an eye for an eye, young god. My son was my world. I would destroy his, if I could.” “I – understand.” and Merlin does, more than she could ever fathom. He sighs. “What would you have me do?” “At least give me the life of his son,” Mary says, and there is venom in her eyes. “I deserve that much, do I not? I have not studied the old ways, not as diligently as I should have, but I know that much. A life for a life. That is the balance, the great cycle. I deserve that much.” Merlin should know. It is the very balance he upholds. That is what the worshippers say, no? Emrys, the beginning and the end, the cycle of life and death. He should, but it is Arthur, and so he - cannot. “No,” he says, and though his words are soft, he knows that his power fills the room, crackling, tense, because he has never been good at holding himself back when a loved one is at stake. The sorceress throws back her head and laughs. It is not a happy one. “Oh, you are in love, aren’t you? The little prince – ha. Mark my words: he is Pendragon through and through. He will throw you away like yesterday’s trash before the year is gone.” Merlin remembers a young prince in the snow, more boy than man, yet, weary, determined, ready to plead before a foreign god for his father’s sins. I think not , he thinks, but he does not speak out loud. He must have shown an opening, a slip, anything, because the sorceress, with grief-crazed eyes, has drawn a knife with a speed that belies her age, and has hurled it with all of her remaining strength across the room. Merlin feels her magic curl then lash out, a brief, brilliant flare, and she is dead before she hits the ground. Perhaps she feared the judgement of the boy-god for his lover; Merlin does not know. He never will. He pauses, holding the flow of time in his grip, a moment, then two, lingering long enough for him to close the witch’s eyes and bid her pass in peace. Then it is all action – the knife, though imbued with Mary Collins’ dying magic, is still mortal steel, and Merlin plucks it out of the air as he sets time back to its rightful flow, reaching out with a few stray tendrils of power to nudge the nobles back to full wakefulness. Uther Pendragon, curse him, is the first to wake. That, Merlin should give him – the man has a spine of steel and a will twice as unbending, and his eyes widen in recognition as soon as he takes in the tableau before him : the sorceress’ body, dead upon the ground, the nobles, awakening groggily with cobwebs in their hair, and Merlin, back in his guise of a mortal boy again, the blade of a cursed dagger held tight in his grasp. “You saved my son,” the King says, thoughtful. “Such dedication deserves a fit reward.” Merlin would save Arthur a thousand times over if need be. The thanks of Uther Pendragon, though - It is a reward he would not wish upon his worst enemy. “Sire,” he says, simply, the words poison upon his tongue, and bows. Sometimes, Merlin wishes that gods are as perfect as mortals make them out to be. ◈ “My father wants you to be my manservant,” Arthur blurts out, as soon as he finds Merlin waiting for him on his bed. He shakes his head, disbelieving. “He – did you – enchant him, or something?” “No,” Merlin replies, his voice cutting. “I did not.” Sometimes, in moments like these, Arthur is reminded who exactly he is speaking to, who exactly stands before him. Arthur winces. Merlin, for all his aloofness, is sometimes terribly easy to read – Arthur knows that it had been his idea for him to become Arthur’s manservant, somehow, but he also knows that this is the last way he would have chosen to go about it. “Yeah, I suppose so.” Arthur sighs, loosening his belt. It has only been hours since he has woken from the witch’s spell, and though he’d apparently slept mere hours before – albeit an enchanted one – Arthur is so, very, unbearably weary. “You knew what the sorceress was up to, didn’t you? When I told you lady Helen was coming. That pensive look, I knew something was up. You knew.” Looking back, now, it seems so – glaringly obvious, that Merlin had known, somehow, about the alleged great singer; all those strange, faraway looks and subtle frowns couldn’t have been a mere coincidence. Arthur is angry at himself, for not having seen. But he is also angry at Merlin, for not having told him, for not having given him even the merest of hints. He had thought Merlin would trust him more than that. He had been wrong, and it hurts more than it has any right to. “I – suppose I did,” Merlin replies, and there is a shadow on his face that hadn’t been there a night ago. Arthur doesn’t know what has gone on between Merlin and the old witch, but he does know that something profound must have happened, something that struck Merlin to the core, because there is a part of him that is unfathomably distant - faraway, pensive, terribly old, the way Arthur had expected all gods to look. That is not his Merlin, though, and Arthur wants his Merlin back. “Look,” Arthur says, biting his lip to stop his frustration from boiling over. “Couldn’t you just have told me? You knew, all this time, when I had no idea that I had a sorceress out for my blood. You could have let me know.” “But I had it under control,” Merlin says, an adorable crinkle between his brows. But the way he says the words, as if he has no idea whatsoever what has got Arthur riled up so badly – it is so terribly foreign, so – not human, that Arthur feels like there is a gaping chasm between the two of them, deep, ancient, unbreachable, widening even as they speak. Arthur has never been one to let an obstacle stop him, though, and he refuses to back down. “Merlin,” he says, “it feels like you don’t trust me. Like – you see me simply as someone to be coddled, looked after, not – not a partner. Not friends, even.” It would be true, Arthur supposes, because for all that Morgana teases him that he’s got a bloated sense of self-importance sometimes, it doesn’t mean that he dares put his power on par with a god’s. He’s probably like a toddling baby to Merlin, age-wise and also in everything else, but still the fact remains that he would like to mean something in this relationship too. Or, well, whatever it is. “Oh.” Merlin’s answer is soft. “Oh.” Arthur moves forward, leaning a little into the bed, letting his forehead brush with Merlin’s. This close, the god’s eyes have little flecks of gold in them, as if all the disguises in the world could’t quite hide exactly who he is, and his eyelashes flutter, sooty and long, against the glint of cheekbones in the dark. Arthur crushes the urge to press his fingers against those soft lips, see just how far they give, because - Now is not the time, he chides himself. We’re talking . “Human emotions are – difficult for me,” Merlin says, at last, and he has never looked more humane, more vulnerable, more confused. Arthur wants to draw him into his arms and keep him there forever, for all that the being before him holds the power to blast entire nations out of existence at his whim. Merlin. His Merlin. “Can you at least – try?” Because Arthur refuses to be a second wheel, refuses to be left out, not anymore. Merlin nods, resolute. “Yes,” he says, “I promise.” The words are imbued with a sense of finality, of destiny, somehow, ringing with something more than Merlin’s voice, and Arthur gasps as their lips meet, chaste at first, longer and lingering more with every pass. Later, as they lie side by side, holding hands like blushing youths (which they are, or at least Arthur is, anyway) - Merlin says, “Well, there is one good thing that’s come out of the mess tonight.” “What?” Arthur grumbles, drowsy. Merlin’s reply is disgustingly cheerful. “I’m your manservant now.” “Gods,” Arthur groans. “I can tell you’ll be a horrible one already. I can’t even boss you around like I could a real one.” “You could,” Merlin says, tongue in cheek. “I might even enjoy it.” “I don’t want to be turned into your animal of the day.” “Oh, please your god, and you’ll never know.” “ Mer lin!” A pause, then - “I’m – glad, though. That you’ll be – there, now. We won’t have to sneak around.” “Believe me, Arthur, I am, too. Now sleep. It’s been a long night.” Merlin doesn’t magic him to sleep, this time around. It’s not anything much, not a grand gesture nor anything close, and yet, to Arthur – it feels sweeter than any victory on the battlefield, any successful patrol, any win on the tourney fields. Because he and Merlin may have a long way to go, yet, but they are taking steps, baby steps – but still, it is progress nonetheless. Sleep is a while in the coming, but when it comes, it is sweeter than ever before. End Notes Alright, so a - should I call it a warning? - to readers : I fear that updates to this series might be a bit slow. :( I actually haven't watched the show (if anyone's noticed), and most of what I write is based off of fanfiction and lots and lots of research on the Merlin fanwiki, so writing somewhat canon-era-ish things takes a lot out of me. So look forward to sporadic updates at the best :O On the other hand, though, I absolutely adore this series and have a plan of epic proportions in mind, and will most definitely try to write it all the way to the finish, so there is that too :> That being said, I really hope that you enjoyed this, and wish you all a great day!! :") Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin is taking longer than usual in returning to Camelot. Arthur starts to worry. Notes this is just a little, self-indulgent fic i wrote for the Merlin Twitter Summer Exchange for brennan. i hope you like it. <3 huge thanks to strawberry scarlet and R for the quick beta! It was well before dawn and Merlin was on horseback a few miles away from Camelot's gates. He was barely holding on given his bruised rib and ankle sprain, but he also had to return to Camelot soon. He already lost 3 days in his journey, including his stay in a nearby village to heal and rest after his gruesome fight with the latest beast plaguing Camelot. At least he was able to send word to Gaius about his delay, but he’s mostly worried now about Arthur. He was never gone for this long, and Merlin could only imagine what excuses Gaius would come up with this time. I swear to all the gods, if Gaius mentions the tavern again, I’ll plague him with leeches, Merlin thought. He chuckled to himself - he knew he would never do such a thing. Still, beyond that, Merlin wondered how the prat was doing without him. As much as he would deny it to himself, he missed Arthur, and he was always worried sick for the man. He wished he didn’t have to do this quest alone, but he didn’t want to risk it knowing how powerful the beast was. Well, he may have overestimated it and gotten himself injured, but no matter. All was well now, again. Merlin can now see the castle and the tiny figures ahead which he knew was the lower town. Suddenly, a man emerged from the lower town, riding his horse so fast it’s as if he’s being chased. Merlin immediately tensed and braced himself, his magic humming to life within him. As Merlin saw the familiar blond hair of the man, he halted. Arthur spotted him as well and he rode faster towards Merlin. Arthur’s expression was full of concern as he approached. He got off his horse and held Merlin’s arm tightly, making him wince. Arthur immediately lets go as if burned, but touched him again gently. “Merlin, what happened?” “I–” Merlin was grappling for an excuse. He didn’t expect to see Arthur this soon. Hell, he was supposed to meet with Gaius first to tell him about what happened. “Merlin?” Arthur slackened his hold on Merlin’s arm and started fussing. Merlin grumbled in pain when Arthur touched his chest. “I fell off my horse accidentally,” Merlin exclaimed. “Accidentally?” Arthur asked, incredulous. “Yeah. I was too exhausted but I didn’t notice and I didn’t want to be gone for too long.” “Merlin, you were gone for three days.” "I know, I’m sorry,” Merlin said, placating Arthur. “I just need to rest, that’s all.” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s arm one last time before releasing him and mounting his horse. “I know you’re injured, Merlin. Only go back to work once you’re feeling better,” Arthur said. Merlin looked at him thoughtfully. Then he gave a mocking sigh. “Oh, thank you, sire. You’ve finally given me a day off!” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Not that you’re any useful.” Merlin laughed and it was immediately cut off by the pain in his ribs. Arthur shook his head and smiled. Merlin’s heart skipped at the sight. “Come on.” Arthur guided him to the physician’s chambers, with a hand around Merlin’s shoulders. Merlin slightly leaned unto him and memorized the feeling of having Arthur this close to him. Along the way, Arthur summoned a servant passing by and talked to her in a hushed voice. When they resumed walking, Merlin looked at him suspiciously. Arthur simply smirked and walked on, saying nothing. Merlin suddenly remembered Arthur riding out the castle earlier and asked, “Where were you going?” Arthur looked straight ahead. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you seemed in a hurry earlier until you found me. Where were you supposed to go?” They stopped in front of the physician’s chambers. Arthur released Merlin, only to touch his shoulder, then to the side of his neck. Merlin’s skin tingled from his touches. “I was looking for you,” Arthur said quietly. Merlin looked at him in surprise. Then, Arthur brought his hand down and took a step back. “I asked one of the servants to bring you and Gaius breakfast this morning. Make sure to eat then rest, Merlin.” Then he turned around and left. Merlin remained standing, feeling so confused and flustered. Arthur’s touches lingered, and he touched his neck, savoring the memory of Arthur gently doing so just minutes before. He shook his head as he entered Gaius’ chambers and winced once again. — In the following days, it’s become a routine: Arthur brought him breakfast, and by extension, Gaius. Merlin wondered why Arthur kept doing this, but he's also afraid to ask because he didn't want to push Arthur away. Since aside from the breakfast, Arthur also tended to him, in his own way. As he was doing now, Arthur dipped a cloth on a basin of water, and dabbed it on Merlin's face, his neck, and his arms, while being gentler on his chest. Merlin knows this isn't necessary - he wasn't poisoned, nor did he have a fever. But Arthur kept doing so anyway, and Merlin never protested. He reveled in Arthur's ministrations, in his tender strokes along his skin and taking his time doing so as if he didn't have a kingdom he needed to run. He kept doing this without fail, and Merlin's heart ached. He has never felt so cared for in a long while, ever since he left the safe haven of his mother's arms. "Merlin, are you alright?" Lost in his own thoughts, Merlin didn't notice tears prickling his eyes. He sat up, facing away from Arthur as he blinked them away. "Nothing, sire," Merlin said, giving him a weak smile. Arthur looked concerned, but didn't press. He took the basin and towel, then stood up. "As usual, breakfast is outside," Arthur said. He was turning to leave and Merlin couldn't take it anymore. "Arthur, wait." Arthur turned back towards him, a questioning look on his face. "Yes, Merlin?" "Why are you doing this?" The question rushed out of him before he lost his courage. He didn't want Arthur to stop his visits, but at the same time, he feels like Arthur is doing too much, and his skin has been prickling with the urge to touch Arthur, to be even closer to him. Arthur sat back down beside Merlin, basin and towel aside. "Because I want to." Merlin stared at him incredulously. "Unless it bothers you, then you can tell me any time to stop,” Arthur said, his expression becoming wary. "Don’t stop," Merlin blurted, then he blushed. Arthur looked amused and Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's just - why ?" Arthur stared at him long enough to be uncomfortable, but Merlin refused to look away. He felt that, whatever Arthur was about to say, it was important. Eventually, Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I thought I lost you that day, when I found you in the forest." Merlin's eyes widened. He remembered Arthur’s words on that same day. I was looking for you. "I know you weren't in the tavern, Merlin. I saw you just as you're about to leave. Even before that. You would go missing the next morning, but I believed that wherever you were headed, it would be important. And I didn't worry becauseI knew you'd come back. You always did." Arthur's hand slid down from Merlin's shoulder, and he clasped Merlin's hand. "But you were gone too long, Merlin. Even Gaius was worried. I knew then that I should go looking for you." Merlin felt Arthur's thumb rubbing along his hand. He thought Arthur didn't notice it. "First thing in the morning, I went out to search for you. But, as if the gods have heard my silent prayers, there you were. Alive." Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand. "Arthur, I'm here. You won't get rid of me that easily," he teased. Arthur looked at him then, eyes shining with unshed tears. "And I don't want you to." Merlin hitched a breath. Arthur brought a hand to his cheek. "Only if you want to." Merlin leaned forward and closed his eyes involuntarily. "I want you." Arthur closed the distance between them and kissed. It was slow and unhurried, as if everything else melts away and they have all the time in the world. They broke apart and smiled at each other. "Please don't leave yet," Merlin whispered. Arthur pressed a chaste kiss on Merlin's lips. "I'll see you again later, I promise. You need to rest, Merlin." Merlin sighed, pouting, but he nodded. Arthur chuckled. "Don't miss me too much," Arthur said casually as he stood up. "Believe me, I won't," Merlin lied. Arthur rolled his eyes. He hastily planted one more kiss to Merlin's lips before leaving. Merlin lied down on his bed, grinning like a loon. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

"You... You have magic?" Arthur gasped out, "You're a sorcerer?" Merlin gave Arthur a solemn look, fear evident in his eyes. "Yes, Arthur." "God Merlin." Arthur said. "You must have been so lonely." --- (A reveal fic, bc you can not tell me that Arthur 'you're my only friend and I couldn't bear to lose you' Pendragon would really just sulk in response to that) --- Link to Français translation by the lovely SankaMalfoy in the notes. Notes Hiiii this trope is overdone i know but whatever i had an idea so enjoy this "You... You have magic?" Arthur gasped out, "You're a sorcerer?" Merlin gave Arthur a solemn look, fear evident in his eyes. "Yes, Arthur." Arthur put his head in his hands and stared at the forest floor, trying to figure out how to feel. "How long?" He asked quietly. Merlin gave a sheepish half-smile. "All my life; I was born this way," Arthur looked up, incredulous, "You were born this way?" He asked, "And you came to Camelot?!" "It is my destiny to protect you sire," Merlin replied, voice breaking, "I couldn't avoid it if I wanted to," Arthur sighed and gazed back up at Merlin again, unwilling to look him in the eye, but unable to look away. "So... All this time... For God's sake why didn't you tell me Merlin?" Merlin picked at his nails and choked down a sob. "Before, you would have told your father. He would have killed me." Merlin then flushed, ashamed. "After, I was just scared." Arthur felt a spike of guilt through his heart, it was his fault that Merlin was so afraid. "Who-" he coughed trying to clear the lump in his throat, "Who knew?" "My mother," Merlin replied quietly, "Gauis, Lancelot..." he deliberated with what counted as knowing. Agravaine had technically known. Arthur took his silence as the end of the list. "Only them?" Arthur's eyes were pained, "God Merlin." He gasped out. "You must have been so lonely." Merlin stayed quiet but tears spilled down his cheeks as he nodded slowly. "Listen, Arthur, I understand you probably don't want me around," Merlin said, who with all his power was still not strong enough to stop the cracks in his voice. "I'll leave-" He began, but was cut off when Arthur stood up shakily and walked towards him. Arthur stopped just infront of Merlin and held out his arms. Merlin flinched. "Shut up dollop-head." Arthur said thickly, before drawing Merlin into a stong embrace, holding onto him tighter than he'd ever held anyone. Both men stood like that for a long time, rebuilding trust and shedding tears they would both deny later as Arthur whispered reassurances to Merlin. "You're safe now." He repeated over and over. "You're safe." Works inspired by this one Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin scowled, wondering why the hell Arthur Pendragon had such a beef with hugging people. Notes Fluffy, fluffy fluff! That's all I'm gonna say! ♡♡♡ See the end of the work for more notes “Well, thanks.” Arthur said, stepping closer to Merlin and raising an arm. It was very unlike Arthur to give hugs, but Merlin was not going to miss the opportunity when it presented itself. After all, if it weren’t for him, Arthur would still be having a troll as his stepmother. Merlin grinned and reached out to hug the Prince, but said Prince immediately jumped back and held out his hands defensively. “Woah! ”, he said, narrowing his eyes. Merlin froze, with his own hands still raised, mirroring Arthur’s posture. “ What are you doing?” “I. . . thought you were going for a hug.” “ No .”, Arthur said, drawing out the ‘ o ' dramatically, that prat. Merlin nodded, a little disappointed. "No. . ." They stayed in the same position for over a minute, before slowly dropping their hands to their sides cautiously, as if expecting the other to pounce on them if they let their defenses down. After giving Merlin a look that clearly said, ‘ You really are an idiot, Merlin.’, Arthur walked away. Sighing, Merlin reminded himself: Arthur Pendragon doesn’t do hugs. “So is there no chance that we could have a hug?” Merlin was asking for the impossible. He knew that. But if he put it across as a joke, as a sarcastic comment, maybe Arthur wouldn’t notice the longing in his voice. Arthur stood still for a moment. Merlin couldn’t see his face, because his back was turned to him. But he knew that Arthur would be glaring daggers. Slowly, the Prince spun around and stalked predetorily towards the boy. For a second, Merlin wondered if he was going to get a very aggressive hug (Merlin wouldn’t mind even that, as long as Arthur hugged him at all.) But instead, the Prince smacked him on the head in his usual not-hard- enough-to-actually-hurt manner and left the room, leaving Merlin pouting. It wasn’t really Merlin’s fault that he and Arthur were caught in the net. Okay, maybe it was. “I’m cold.”, he said honestly, shivering as the icy wind blew around the net that was suspended in mid-air. “What do you expect me to do about it, Mer lin? Cuddle with you?” , Arthur asked irritably. “Well, if you don’t want the two if us to freeze to death, then maybe that won’t be such a bad idea?”, Merlin asked hopefully, taking a different approach. Surely, Arthur can’t say "No" to a survival hack? “ No. ” , the Prince said acidly, and turned to lie on his side, facing away from Merlin, the net swaying dangerously in the process. Merlin scowled, wondering why the hell Arthur Pendragon had such a beef with hugging people. “How's Merlin?” Merlin could hear the worry in Arthur’s voice from where he was hiding, and he felt a little guilty for pulling this trick on him. “Bad news.”, Lancelot said, and if Merlin didn’t know him any better, he would have missed the mischievous touch to his voice. There was a brief silence. A heavy one. Merlin could imagine Arthur’s face muscles tightening as he faught back the tears. ' Would Arthur have cried if I was dead?' , Merlin wondered. (The Prince never cried.) But something told Merlin that Arthur most certainly would have. Merlin couldn’t do it anymore. He loved messing with Arthur, but pretending that he had died would be too cruel. So he walked in. “He’s still alive.”, Lancelot said, grinning and moving away to reveal Merlin walking towards them. Arthur almost laughed in relief. His eyes showed a fondness that the Prince would never willingly let be shown. Merlin went and stood in front of Arthur, bracing himslef for the tightest hug in history. So we can’t blame him for feeling completely let down, when all he got was a fim shoulder pat. That’s it. Merlin had had enough. He had almost died, and Arthur was still stubbornly refusing to hug him! “Oh, just hug me, you big Clotpole!”, he yelled, sounding annoyed and pleading at the same time. When Arthur just stared at him with an uncertain expression in his eyes and his lips drawn in a tight line, Merlin muttered, “Oh, for the love of God! ”, and threw himself at the Prince, wrapping his arms around him. He expected resistance; a hard shove and an indignant squeak from the blonde, and tightened his hold in advance. But neither the shove nor the complaint came. Instead Arthur pulled him closer and hugged him so tight that Merlin momentarily couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes and revelled in the moment. ‘ Finally…’ , he thought to himself. When Arthur pulled back, Merlin made a small ‘Mmph!’ of protest and held on tighter. But the Prince was stronger and he peeled Merlin away from his body. Feeling a little sad that the moment was over, Merlin tried to step back, but before he could, a pair of lips came crashing on his. Arthur Pendragon was kissing him. Arthur Pendragon was kissing him! Now Merlin couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason. Before he could stop his head from spinning and his heart from racing, Arthur pulled back with a fond smile, no longer bothering to hide his affection. “Now, now, Merlin. . .”, The prince tutted playfully. “ Look what you made me do.” End Notes ♡ The End. ♡ Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin kisses everyone. Everyone except Arthur. Notes This is my first Merlin fic and I really hop eyou guys like it! See the end of the work for more notes Merlin kissed everyone. Arthur first noticed it when he saw Merlin saying goodbye to Gwen. Before he walked away, Merlin gave Gwen a light peck on the cheek. She blushed and Merlin grinned and waved and walked away. The next time Arthur saw Merlin kissing someone was when he was heading to Morgana's chambers. He hesitated at a corner, hearing voices. "Thank you, Merlin," That was Morgana. "It's no problem at all," replied Merlin. "See you later?" "Of course!" Arthur stuck his head around the corner just in time to see Merlin kissing Morgana on her cheek and walking away. Arthur hid himself away, wondering why Merlin was kissing Morgana. The next time Merlin kissed someone, it was one of his knights. The knight in question was a young trainee, whom Arthur had scolded for being late. He had felt only slightly guilty. Arthur sat next to the armory, listening to Merlin reassure the trainee. "The prince is an idiot. He yells at everyone, but he means well. He only want for you to be the best you can be." Arthur's heart swelled upon hearing those words. "Re-really?" The knight sniffled. "Yeah! Arthur's- oh, I mean, Prince Arthur wants you to be the best version of yourself. But the only way he knows how to help you is by shouting." After a few more minutes, the knight had calmed down, and Arthur heard a light smack, before a whispered goodbye. He scrambled to his feet and raced to his chambers, not wanting to be caught by Merlin. The next day, Lancelot and Gwaine were heading out on patrol, and Merlin kissed both of them goodbye. Arthur felt a rising sense of jealousy. Why was Merlin, his Merlin, kissing the knights? Since Arthur was noticing that his manservant kissed everyone, he also noticed that he wasn't being kissed. Merlin kissed Morgana, and some of his most experienced knights (Sir Leon always turned into a blushing mess whenever he was pecked), and the servants, but not Arthur. He thought maybe he had done something wrong. Maybe Merlin's kisses were a way of showing affection, and maybe Arthur didn't deserve that affection. The thought made him feel terrible. Where had he messed up? Arthur decided to bring up the point with his manservant one day. He was sitting at his desk, and Merlin was walking around, cleaning and talking. The chatter made Arthur feel happy, because it was so familiar and normal and so Merlin. "Merlin," Arthur said, interrupting his flow. "Yes?" "I have noticed," here Arthur folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, "that you seem to be going around kissing everybody." Merlin turned red. "Ah. That." "Yes. May I ask why?" "It's custom, in Ealdor. If someone's sad, or you're saying goodbye to someone, you kiss them. Makes them feel loved." "Why don't I get any kisses?" Arthur hadn't meant for it to come out so... desperate. Merlin faced him, and stopped moving. His eyebrows was traveling up. "Sire, you've never shown any liking for physical affection, or any kind of affection." Arthur scowled. "Just because I don't show any liking doesn't mean I don't like it." Merlin grinned cheekily. "So would you like me to start kissing you goodbye?" Arthur glared at Merlin. "Get back to your work, you idiot." Merlin got back to work. ___ The next day, Arthur had a council meeting about god knows what. Merlin had finished getting him ready, and instead of waving him goodbye like usual, he pecked Arthur on the cheek. Both boys turned a brilliant shade of scarlet, and Merlin mumbled a 'goodbye, Sire' and rushed out of his chambers. Arthur's blush didn't fade away for a few minutes and after it did, he put a hand to the place where Merlin kissed him and grinned. End Notes aggggg i love writing merlin. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin is tasked with returning an inebriated king to his chambers. Notes See the end of the work for notes In hindsight, it was Merlin’s own fault. He had brought this upon himself when had challenged the king to a drinking game. Well, it had been Gwaine’s idea, but Merlin had followed through with it, knowing he could secure the victory with a little help of a spell. At the time, he had not thought to consider the repercussions. “We made it, sire,” Merlin stated, more than a bit proud. The long walk from the lower town to the citadel had been a breeze compared to the endless amount of stairs and turns they had just faced. Arthur had become very chatty in his drunken state and an inebriated king apparently wasn’t able to move mouth and feet at the same time. Arthur turned in his grip to face him, wound his arms tightly around his servant's body and rubbed his cheek against Merlin’s, his eyes falling closed. “Arthur,” was the king’s only response, seemingly content to fall asleep leaning on him. “What?” “My name... is Arthur.” “Yes, I’m aware,” Merlin answered, bemused. “Well, then use it.” “Right. Arthur.” The king let out a low hum, rubbed his cheek against his in a nod and clung even more tightly to him, digging his fingers into Merlin’s jacket. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Arthur gave no indication that he’d heard him. “Merlin.” The low, gravelly voice made him feel lightheaded himself. Heat shot into his face. He forced his voice to remain light and chipper. “Yes, Arthur?” “Thank you.” The king sounded incredibly pleased. “Wow! We should really get you drunk more often if that means you’ll finally show me some gratitude.” Arthur only hummed again in response. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me!” He tapped Arthur’s back. “I’m not, I’m just comfortable.” To his credit, he sounded more sober than he had in the past hour. Which did nothing to quench Merlin’s growing, albeit conflicted, enjoyment of his current predicament. He forced himself into action. “Arthur, we need to be quiet inside, the queen is probably sleeping already.” “Yes, sire!” He exclaimed cheerfully, almost shouting in his ear. Merlin shushed him immediately. “Sorry,” Arthur mumbled, swaying forward a little. Great . This was going wonderfully. * Merlin opened the door only to reveal Gwen sitting by the fireplace, reading. “My lady. You’re still up?” “Merlin, what have I told you about how to address me in private?” Her tone was fond as she walked over to greet them. “I told him.” Arthur immediately latched onto Gwen and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good evening, my stunningly beautiful queen,” he crooned. “May I have this dance?” He fumbled for her hands but was unsuccessful for they were currently busy holding him upright. Gwen failed to supress a laugh. “Oh dear. I think you belong in bed, love.” “I think you belong in bed.” Arthur swayed dangerously forward, and Merlin caught him before he could crush his wife. “I’ll take it from here.” Gwen seemed incredibly grateful for his assistance. “Thank you, Merlin.” She stepped close to peck him on the cheek. “Yes, thank you, Merlin,” Arthur parroted, his voice low, and did the same on the other side. Great . Just dandy. He was never getting Arthur drunk again. Ever . Merlin’s heart was beating wildly, and he could feel himself blushing furiously at being sandwiched between king and queen. He was painfully aware of the spot Arthur’s lips had just touched, his warm breath still lingering on his face, making his skin tingle all over. Gwen’s affection he was used to. Her hands holding onto his arms or his waist as she stood on tiptoes to press lingering kisses to his cheek were as familiar as her arms thrown around his neck, chin tucked into his shoulder, and the sweet smell of her hair in his nose as her body pressed flush against his, a pleasant warmth filling his chest. Arthur’s current show of affection for him, however, was downright bizarre in comparison. The man was so emotionally constipated, Merlin was truly surprised at how easily a few drinks had clouded his senses and made him lose control. As if to prove his point, he felt Arthur’s hand brush past his backside, seemingly trying to find a way under his tunic. Merlin’s heart was hammering against his ribcage. He shot a quick, cautious glance at Gwen, who was only watching them bemusedly, and then to Arthur whose eyes were flitting back and forth between him and Gwen, his lips slowly tugging into a smile. Merlin decided to interrupt his thoughts before the situation could get any more out of hand. “Alright, come on, I’ll take you to bed.” He regretted his words the second they were out of his mouth. “I’ll take you both to bed!” Arthur declared loudly, waving his arm around in a grand gesture, his cheeky grin softened by the alcohol in his veins. Oh god , this was getting worse by the minute. All the thoughts Merlin had not dared to entertain, that he had so desperately tried to supress all evening were unleashed this instant. He had deliberately not taken note of the way Arthur’s hair stuck up in the front, like it did in the morning, of how godlike he looked in his white tunic, the laces undone, showing more than a bit of skin, especially when it had slipped sideways as Arthur had stumbled on the stairs, the muscled shoulder right in front of Merlin’s face, close enough to touch with his lips (or even graze with his teeth), the smell of him and the warmth of Arthur’s body pressed alongside his own. He had thanked the gods that he was sober, otherwise he would have doubted the strength of his restraint, but Arthur’s carefree, unadulterated grin at his insinuation had now undone him. He mentally slapped himself out of his daze and risked another look at Gwen, who only pressed her lips together to supress a laugh, then turned away to hide it. Like she knew something he didn’t. Panic shot up his spine and sobered him up immediately. Had she seen something in his reaction? Could she know? He tried to calm himself. She couldn’t have noticed, he rationalized, he was standing with his back to her. And besides, that look might as well have been meant for Arthur, who in his drunken state was apparently out of his mind. And who had now plopped down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge, regarding Merlin with raised eyebrows, apparently expecting something. Merlin gaped at him. “What are you waiting for? Undress me!” Merlin barely realized that his brain stopped working for a second before he snapped out of it and hurriedly crouched down to unlace Arthur’s boots. His face flushed at the thoughts running through his head. It was his job to help the king undress. Nothing more. He had done it a hundred times before. Thousands even. It was his job. His duty. Oh god , this wasn’t helping. Arthur had pushed himself up on his elbows to watch. Merlin worked the laces even faster and pulled the boots off one by one. “Good. Now yours.” Merlin stared up at him. The cheeky grin was back. Oh, Arthur was going to pay for this. “I’m leaving before you say or do anything else you’ll regret in the morning.” He quickly got up from the floor. “Regret? Why would I regr-” “Goodnight, sire.” With a short bow he turned around before Arthur could answer and bid good night to Gwen, who kissed him on the cheek once more, her lips and her hands lingering just a moment too long to be taken for a mere gesture of parting. She pressed another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before she let him go. In apology, perhaps? * As he walked through the empty corridors of the castle, he vowed to wake Arthur extra early in the morning. And loudly! End Notes My first ever published fanfic. Wrote this mostly for my own entertainment because I needed a dose of soft bi!Arthur. Comments and criticism are always appreciated! Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

The very first time Prince Arthur of Camelot met Prince Merlin of Mercia, Arthur was seven years old and Merlin was five, and there was that unfortunate incident with the toy dragon. Now they're in their twenties, and their fathers are trying to thrash out a peace treaty between the two countries, while Arthur has to escort Merlin on a high-profile tour of Camelot. Obviously it's going to be the very worst few days of Arthur's life. Written for the Merlin Mpreg Fest 2014. Notes Thanks to the lovely Fififolle for doing a super-fast beta at short notice. And huge thanks to the mods at MerlinMpreg for letting me post late! This also fills my hc bingo card square unexpected/difficult pregnancy. The very first time Prince Arthur of Camelot met Prince Merlin of Mercia, Arthur was seven years old and Merlin was five. Arthur didn’t really remember a huge amount about it, except that Merlin carried around a stupid stuffed dragon toy with him all the time. People said it was because he was homesick. They usually then said something along the lines of “awww.” He also remembered that Merlin was shorter than him, and had ears that stuck out too far, and that when people said “Isn’t he cute?” they were, for the first time ever, not talking about Arthur. And he remembered the photo session. The photo session had been Arthur’s very first PR disaster. Arthur had to stand with Merlin for photographs, and whilst Arthur was expected to pose nicely, as he had been taught, Merlin stood there clutching the dragon in front of him and half-hiding his face. Somehow this had produced more comments about cuteness, and more sighing, when clearly it wasn’t the right way to behave. So Arthur, because he was going to be king one day and had to lead the way, or so his father kept telling him, took charge. He grabbed the dragon by its tail, pulled it out of Merlin’s arms, and threw it to one side. Unfortunately as they were standing in the palace grounds very close to a huge and very historical fountain, and Arthur was quite strong for his age, the toy went swimming. Little Merlin had gazed for a moment in horror, his mouth hanging half open. And then, as his beloved toy rapidly sank, his face crumpled, his mouth opened wide and a horrible noise came out. Arthur thought it was all a bit much over a stupid toy, but he was the only one that thought so. Arthur’s nanny climbed into the fountain and retrieved the toy, but when he saw the soggy, misshapen thing Merlin just cried louder. Arthur the Dragonslayer! was probably the best of the headlines the next day though Arthur didn’t see them until years later. Most of the other headlines dealt with the wailing Mercian prince and a few were less than kind about Arthur. Merlin was removed from Arthur’s presence, which suited Arthur very well. Within a few days the peace talks between their fathers had fallen through and Merlin, his stupid toy and all the people who came to Camelot with him had gone home. And that was the last Prince Arthur saw of Prince Merlin for many, many years. --- One day, shortly after Arthur’s twenty-third birthday, Arthur encountered Merlin again. It was, Arthur decided very quickly, one of the worst days of his entire life. Arthur was the crown prince. The only crown prince of Camelot, and therefore the only crown prince that mattered. So he didn’t really enjoy having this foreign boy who had come in with the visitation from Mercia declaring himself to be a crown prince as well. Even though Merlin clearly was the crown prince of Mercia (for what that was worth), it was a lesser country and therefore Merlin was a lesser prince in Arthur’s mind. To be fair, Merlin hadn’t actually done the declaring. That was the annoying herald who had announced the arrival of the royal party. No, Merlin had stood there beside his father looking around him with some fascination. He’d had the cheek to smile at Arthur, and when that smile wasn’t returned he’d pulled a face. At Arthur . Nobody did that. Especially not people who had caused Arthur to briefly lose favour with his own press, and who were known to be able to cry at will over the slightest thing. Merlin wasn’t actually five any more, and he wasn’t shorter than Arthur any more either. He still had the sticking out ears that Arthur remembered, and Arthur suspected he probably still slept with that stupid dragon toy. The papers had all reminded him of the toy, and the incident, because of course they’d brought it up as soon as the visit had been announced. The Mercian royal family hadn’t been seen in Camelot since the incident so the journalists probably expected Merlin to still be five. Arthur glared at him. He supposed he could probably make Merlin cry again if he wanted to. It might brighten up the afternoon. Admittedly the initial smile had been attractive… very attractive if he were honest… but Arthur wasn’t going to forgive sixteen years of little digs from the press all that easily. He didn’t really see why they had to put up with the visitation anyway. Camelot was clearly the stronger of the two nations and could overrun Mercia using brute force if needed, even if Mercia did have those wretched dragons. His father was always telling him as much. The peace talks were just a sop to the weaker nation, and a slap in the face to Cenred of Essetir who had fallen out with both countries over it. If his father didn’t do so first, Arthur could see his own reign easily merging both nations and Cenred’s and maybe a few more too. In fact, if Merlin was king of Mercia at the time, Arthur would take great pleasure in swallowing up Merlin’s little kingdom within his own. He might even send Merlin a little stuffed dragon as a keepsake after he’d done so, in case Merlin started crying again. The thought was so pleasing that he wasn’t really listening to his father’s speech. It would be over soon and then Arthur would be able to leave, to change into something more comfortable and head out with his friends. He wondered if Leon could be persuaded to drop the horrible levels of security he liked to surround Arthur with and let him into a nightclub. The papers appeared to have forgotten about the last nightclub incident in the excitement over the Mercian visit. And it hadn’t been entirely Arthur’s fault anyway, he’d tripped on an uneven paving slab on the way out. It could have happened to anyone. He hadn’t been totally off his face, it was just unfortunate that the press had been right there, waiting… His father was talking about dragons, and restrictions, and neutral territory. Arthur had stopped listening as it was all beyond tedious. Merlin obviously thought so too, he was looking less happy by the moment. “…won’t you, Arthur?” The mention of his own name caught his attention. He had no idea what his father had just asked, but he smiled and nodded agreement. Anything to get the meeting over with. “Of course.” Merlin gaped at him in horror. “He wasn’t listening, he didn’t even hear what you said,” he accused. “Merlin, please.” Balinor reprimanded his son. “Remember why we’re here.” He looked to Uther. “I’m sorry, my son is a little headstrong. Hopefully he’ll learn a few manners whilst we’re here.” Merlin glared at Arthur but said nothing more. He was clearly bursting to do so. Uther raised an eyebrow at Merlin. Arthur knew him well enough to recognise disapproval, it was normally something he saw directed at himself. “Good, that’s settled. Arthur.” Uther waved a hand towards Merlin. Arthur suddenly realised that he was supposed to leave with the foreign prince. Hopefully it was just to show him to the guest quarters, and not to have to stand around having photos taken together again. He took a step forward, not hurrying, hoping that someone would enlighten him. He really needed to start paying attention at these things. “Come along then,” he said reluctantly. “I’m sure you’ll want to change.” Arthur would have wanted to change, whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. Merlin and his father had turned up in the Mercian ceremonial dress, or something close to it. It looked ridiculous, all billowing shirts and tight breeches and Arthur wasn’t sure whether it was the father or the son who looked worse in the outfits. The father, he decided, because despite how very annoying the Mercian prince was, Arthur could always appreciate what appeared to be a firm arse and wiry but strong legs. Even on Merlin. “I hope you haven’t brought any toys with you this time, Merlin,” Arthur whispered as they crossed the room together. “No fluffy dragons or anything.” “I was five ,” Merlin retorted. “Unlike you, I’m older than that now!” That was a matter of opinion, Arthur thought. Still, he only had to show Merlin to his room and then that would be an end to it. Perhaps he could vanish for a few days? He’d done that before, and his father would probably be so busy with the Mercian visit that he wouldn’t even notice. “Still, I could arrange for a cuddly blankie to be brought along. We like to look after our guests.” He stepped aside to let Merlin walk through the door ahead of him, glancing back to make sure his father saw how very polite he was being. It might have been wasted as Uther’s attention was fully on the rival king. “So where are we going?” Merlin asked. “To your room, of course.” Arthur had a sinking feeling that Merlin was about to tell him that there was more to his father’s instruction than that. He wasn’t wrong. “I meant after that. What are all these famous sights that you’re going to show me?” Merlin paused, and Arthur knew he hadn’t been quick enough to hide the dismay. “Hah! I knew you weren’t listening to your father! Well, Arthur, you’re my tour guide for the afternoon. Lucky me.” “I need full security before I go out,” Arthur put in quickly, ignoring the fact that he spent most of his life trying to avoid it. “Can’t just drop everything and go sailing around Camelot. Takes ages to organise. Father must have forgotten that.” “It’s an arranged visit,” Merlin told him patiently. “You just have to stand there and smile in the photos with me at each site, and we’ll be taken around in a car with lots of security. Surely you do this a lot?” Arthur didn’t like to admit that since a visit from Princess Vivian, which had culminated in some embarrassing front pages and an apology to her father King Olaf of Norway, Uther had mostly kept Arthur away from any visiting royals. He sat at feasts and nodded and smiled, and that was about it. He certainly hadn’t been trusted with their entertainment. However, he wasn’t going to tell Merlin that. “Of course I do. Now hurry along and change, you don’t want to be mistaken for a circus act!” “I’m not the one who gets his face plastered all across the papers every week because he doesn’t know how a future king should behave in public.” “Hah! Your face… your bawling face is across all the papers and has been all week!” “What five year old wouldn’t cry, being saddled with a pompous bully? That’s what it said, you know? All across the Mercian papers when the peace talks failed. You were a symbol for your bullying country, picking on little Mercia and a tiny little boy. That’s why I have to spend the day with you, as part of the PR, to show you’ve changed. But you haven’t, have you? You’re still just the same. What a horrible king you’ll make.” Arthur really didn’t like Merlin. “I won’t be weak,” he snapped. “Here, this is your room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” “Don’t hurry,” he heard Merlin mutter as he walked away. Arthur had no intention of doing so. --- There had been no getting out of the tour. Arthur had tried, but his father was locked in talks with Balinor, and Leon was under strict instructions to ensure the tour went ahead. “But I can’t stand him,” Arthur protested. “Good practice for dealing with him when you’re both kings,” Morgana told him and Leon nodded agreement, the traitor. Arthur suspected that if Morgana said black was white Leon would nod agreement. “Why don’t you take him round instead?” Arthur suggested. His sister, as well as being the most annoying person on the planet (with the possible exception now of Merlin) was excellent at being totally charming when she wanted to be, and would doubtless be the wonderful hostess she always was. “Maybe,” and he thought this was a particular stroke of genius, considering how disloyal Leon was being. “Maybe I should suggest to father than you marry him and join the two countries together that way? How the papers would love that! What do you think, Leon?” As he’d hoped, his traitorous friend was looking utterly horrified at the idea. Arthur pondered pushing it further, just to serve Leon right, but Morgana put a stop to that. “Oh don’t be ridiculous, Arthur,” Morgana snapped. “Apparently the prince likes men as much as you do, although he’s not as indiscreet about it. It’s not me Uther intends marrying him to.” Arthur felt a sudden thrill of horror at her words, and although he did his best to quickly hide it, he knew the momentary shock had shown on his face. He narrowed his eyes at her. “ What?” “Oh!” She put her hands to her mouth in what was clearly not shock at all. “I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I? Oops.” He really hated it when she looked quite that pleased with herself. Worse, she’d glanced at Leon smugly. Perhaps Leon’s secret crush wasn’t quite so secret any more and that would be a pity because Arthur had spent many months now gently tormenting him. “I’d sooner spend the rest of my life celibate,” Arthur growled. “You both loathe each other so much, you probably would spend the rest of your lives celibate,” Morgana assured him. Leon’s phone buzzed for attention. He answered it, spoke briefly to someone, and then shrugged a little apologetically. “Sorry Arthur, Gwen’s wanting to know why the tour hasn’t started yet. The cameras are waiting and they want a clip for the lunchtime news.” “Oh, don’t keep your beloved waiting!” Morgana beamed, then gave a nasty cackle. Honestly, sometimes his sister was no better than a witch. Arthur left, Leon at his heels. “I really don’t know what it is you see in her,” Arthur muttered as soon as they were out in the corridor. “She was joking, wasn’t she? Father isn’t planning some kind of romantic outcome?” “No,” Leon began. “He…” “Spoilsport!” Morgana yelled from the room they’d just vacated. “I can hear you, Leon!” “Looks like it’ll be two of us celibate then,” Arthur smiled. “Bad luck. Now, carry on.” Leon looked back ruefully, but continued. “The king said, when the princess suggested it, over his dead body and he’d even rather have that awful Princess Vivian who was here last summer as his daughter in law than any freakish Mercian dragonlord. He said considerably more than that on the subject, but that was the gist of it.” It was cheering to know. His father was a wise man. --- Merlin was waiting in his room as instructed, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking fed up. He’d changed into jeans and a t-shirt, with a jacket made of some kind of odd-looking leather that was far too fitted to be stylish in Camelot but suited him anyway. “A few minutes?” he asked, when Arthur entered. “Are Camelot minutes so much longer than Mercian ones?” “I was called away,” Arthur told him pompously. “I am the crown prince, you know?” “I know you’re pretty rude,” Merlin muttered. “Come on then, let’s start this tour.” He walked past Arthur and out into the corridor, waited a moment for Arthur to catch up but Arthur knew that was because he didn’t know where he was going rather than out of any sort of politeness. “We’ll have a photographer with us,” Arthur told him as they strode along the corridor. “His name’s Gwaine. He’ll flirt with you, he flirts with anything that moves. It’s an instinct in him in the same way that most people have an instinct to breathe. Don’t make an international incident out of it, he’s harmless.” “I can cope with someone flirting with me,” Merlin growled. “Good. Didn’t want you crying or anything.” He heard a heavy sigh from behind him. “Oh don’t start!” “Getting tedious now,” Merlin warned. “Do you only have one joke?” “Not at all. Don’t shag Gwaine, by the way. Don’t want you getting knocked up. Again, international incident. Funny though.” “Funny?” “Well, you know.” Arthur turned to smile at Merlin. “You Mercian men and the pregnancy risk. I think it would make me stay celibate for the rest of my life!” “I’m sure the world would be grateful for that,” Merlin retorted. Arthur pushed open a door, strode through it and let it fall back in Merlin’s face. “Prat!” he heard muttered from behind him. “Girl,” Arthur retorted. He counted the silence afterwards as a win. It was far and away the most odd thing about the Mercians, and the subject of many jokes amongst the people of Camelot. Or at least it had been until the politically correct bunch had declared it racist and offensive to laugh about any male with a little or a lot of Mercian blood who happened to fall pregnant. Camelot liked to do it the old-fashioned way and have women bear children. Arthur had never met anyone, ever, whom he’d even consider settling down and having children with. He certainly wouldn’t be bearing them himself if he ever did. He could see Merlin’s sulky countenance reflected in the glass doors they were approaching. “Smile, princess.” Gwaine was always calling him princess. It seemed far more fitting to use it on the Mercian prince. He’d have to point that out to Gwaine later. “Our public await and want to see us nice and happy!” “They shouldn’t have saddled me with you for the day then,” Merlin told him, then pushed past him, opened the door and beamed happily around at the group of people waiting on the steps. “Hello! Are you taking us on the tour? I’ve heard so much about your beautiful city, I can’t wait to see it!” Arthur followed, trying not to roll his eyes as Merlin walked around shaking them all by the hand and professing his love for Camelot. The faker , he thought. He was obviously the only one who could see right through Merlin. “Ah, you’re Gwaine!” Merlin was being introduced to the handsome photographer, who was shaking his hand far too enthusiastically. “Arthur was telling me all about you. I think he’s got a bit of a crush.” And then he winked at Gwaine, who grinned back. “Ah yes, me and the princess go back a long way.” “Princess!” Merlin turned and gave Arthur a huge, far too smug grin. Arthur hated him all over again. It was, definitely, going to be the worst day of Arthur’s life. --- The state car that they were going to be driven around in seemed considerably smaller than normal. Gwen had ushered them inside, and then sat opposite them giving a long list of dos and don’ts at the various places they were going to visit. Most of them seemed to be directed at Arthur, which he thought was a little unfair given that Merlin was the one who was unfamiliar with the country. “…the important thing is that this whole visit gives a positive impression of unity between the two nations…” “She means don’t burst into tears if you lose your favourite toy this time,” Arthur clarified for Merlin. “Oh, I’ll be right here, don’t worry!” Gwaine grinned. He and Merlin had already hit it off far too well for Arthur’s liking. He suspected that all the pictures were going to favour their foreign guest far too much. Gwaine had already started snapping off pictures in the car, and Arthur didn’t think he was in any of them so far. Rather than suffer Gwaine’s never-ending attempts to get laid, Arthur chose to stare out of the window instead, watching the world race past at speed. People were looking at the car, but the tinted windows gave them no hint of who was inside. Sometimes it was like being in a goldfish bowl, always on show, unable to escape the public gaze. Across on the other side of the car, Gwaine was telling one of his jokes. His hand, Arthur noticed when he glanced over, was already on Merlin’s knee, and the Mercian prince didn’t seem to be in any hurry to push it away. Arthur wasn’t going to need to do anything to make this trip a disaster, he realised. Merlin and Gwaine were going to manage that all by themselves. He felt oddly irritated by that. Perhaps he was more inclined to help with his father’s peace talks than he realised, he wondered, and wanted to stop some embarrassing affair taking place. But no, Gwaine was often annoying. He was supposed to take all the official pictures, and frequently was out at Arthur’s side. Somehow, although he always took wonderfully flattering pictures of the king, the ones of Arthur didn’t always turn out as well. The first stop was the Mercian embassy, where they had to stand in front of the memorial to a brave Mercian diplomat who had, decades before, uncovered plans for an attack on both countries by Caerleon. The discovery had saved thousands, but at the cost of her own life. It had resulted in an uneasy truce between the nations and a unified attack and defeat of Caerleon, which had been divided between Camelot and Mercia as a result. After that, while things had never really been entirely friendly, the dragon-riding people of Mercia were no longer regarded as the enemy. Arthur solemnly laid a wreath beside the memorial, and watched as Merlin did the same. They stood for a moment, heads bowed, trying not to notice the steady click of Gwaine’s camera, and those of other photographers who had gathered. There was the usual line of diplomats to meet and greet before they got back into the car and headed for the next stop. Merlin, at least, seemed to be professional about the whole thing. He looked serious when required, and smiled delightedly when required. It was like watching a little wind-up doll, Arthur decided, conveniently forgetting that he was doing the same thing. Merlin did have a very attractive smile, though. He almost wished it was being directed at him instead of at Gwaine. Then one of the ever-amusing paparazzi would call out something to the effect of: “No tears this time then, Arthur?” and he would recall just how annoying Merlin actually was. The Tate had a special exhibition on loan from a famous Mercian artist, Cornelius Sigan, which they were supposed to walk around and admire. It was hideous stuff, Arthur thought, too much black paint and too many winged monsters for his liking. “It’s very bleak,” he commented as they rounded a corner and were faced with yet another demonic bird-creature. “Is all Mercian art like this?” “Why do you think we let you borrow it?” Merlin whispered back. “It’s hideous . He’s the worst artist in all Mercia.” If that was true, it would explain a lot about imported Mercian art. “Do you send all your rubbish over to us?” Merlin just beamed at him, which probably answered the question. Then he turned to Gwen, who was busy talking to someone on her headset and glancing at her watch. They were probably half a minute behind schedule, Arthur guessed. He leaned forward, pretending interest in the horrible painting in order to delay them further. He didn’t see why he should be the only one who was having a miserable time that day. “It’s wonderful to see how you’ve embraced our culture,” Merlin told Gwen. “But I’d love to see some Camelot art too.” Gwen glared at him and looked down at her schedule. “I don’t… there’s no time to fit that in. We have fifteen minutes before the boat needs to leave. Arthur, stop looking at that picture, we need to go.” “Bossy!” Merlin mouthed at Arthur, who started to smile back then remembered himself. He wasn’t going to let the Mercian prince work whatever magic he was managing on everyone else on him. “Gwen’s very professional,” he told Merlin haughtily, ignoring Gwen’s look of surprise. Perhaps he did wind her up a little too much on these official trips, but if she just relaxed a little he wouldn’t get the urge to tease her so. “Come along, we’ve got a boat trip. You’ll like that.” “What’s the Mercian connection?” Merlin asked suspiciously. “There’s a fine eighteenth century bridge designed by a Mercian architect,” Gwen answered enthusiastically. “We’ll pass under it. And then we’ll have lunch at the new revolving restaurant at the top of the Dragon Centre.” “That’s Mercian, isn’t it?” Merlin checked. “Well, of course it is, Mer -lin,” Arthur drawled. “The clue is in the name. Camelot doesn’t do dragons, even if it might not feel like that today.” Gwen glanced at him a little worriedly, then turned a friendly smile on the visiting prince, obviously trying to gloss over Arthur’s rudeness. “We want you to feel at home.” “I’m starting to feel as if I’ve stayed there,” Merlin agreed. The polished smile was, Arthur thought, slipping a little. --- It rained while they were on the boat, but then as that was typical Camelot weather Arthur wasn’t surprised. The bridge wasn’t terribly exciting, and when they disembarked, he noticed Merlin looking longingly across at the famous new opera house. Some people loved it, others hated it, but it was a huge attraction. “Will we visit that later?” he asked. Gwen shook her head. “No time for that. We’re aiming to promote this as a way to show how well our people work together, how thoroughly our cultures have already mixed.” “I’ll take you on a tour later if you play your cards right,” Gwaine put in with a wicked grin, nudging Merlin’s arm. “Show you all the sights…” “There’ll be none of that,” Gwen told them. “Arthur and Merlin will be in the royal box at the King’s Theatre, seven-thirty, to enjoy Heart of the Dragon .” “What’s that?” Merlin asked nervously, at the same time as Arthur groaned loudly “Oh no…” “It’s a famous and beloved musical,” Gwen explained. “Singing and dancing,” Arthur muttered. “With a big dragon puppet.” “It’s a love story across two cultures,” Gwen continued. “A Camelot boy is shagging a Mercian girl,” Gwaine added helpfully. “Their parents don’t approve, but…” “Don’t spoil it!” Gwen squeaked. “It’s wonderful, Merlin, you’ll love it. I’ve been five times, and it always makes me cry.” Merlin looked over at Arthur with an expression that was almost, almost pleading for help. He seemed to realise that he wasn’t going to get it, and gazed across at the new opera house building again. Arthur did feel a little sorry for him and didn’t take up the opportunity to put in a jibe about crying again. He didn’t think he’d appreciate being taken on a tour of all the Camelot tributes if… or as was looking rather likely when he had to visit Mercia. Bearing that in mind, he decided to step in. “What are we doing tomorrow, Gwen? Is anything planned?” “Lots of things. The zoo… there’s a new exhibit at the reptile house and then there’s a parade in the afternoon…” A parade. Sitting in a carriage waving at people. Arthur hated that. He could tell by Merlin’s expression that he did too. Perhaps they had more in common than he’d thought. “Cut down the time at the zoo. I know it’s a good one but not everyone enjoys the idea of caged animals. See if you can slot in a tour of the popular tourist spots instead. A proper one, with a double decker bus and a guide. It’ll go down well, look as if we’re doing the regular tourist thing. And see if you can find a space where we can visit the opera house. Maybe the Houses of Parliament too.” “But…” For a moment he thought she was going to either cry or start raging at him. Either was possible, Gwen was absolutely brilliant at organising any kind of state visit right down to the last detail, and he knew she would hate making any changes, especially this close to the event. Still, she’d planned out a positively hideous schedule for him, with his planned escape to a nightclub that evening ruined now with the prospect of a horrible musical, so he didn’t feel too guilty. Merlin was gaping at him in surprise, looking decidedly un-princelike, so Arthur added for good measure: “And see if you can fit in Westminster Abbey too.” Gwen’s nostrils actually flared for a moment. “Perhaps you’d like a ride on the Eye as well?” she snarled. Merlin beamed at her. “I’d love that!” Arthur managed not to laugh, though he could hear Gwaine almost choking behind him. Lancelot was hovering worriedly behind Gwen. He’d probably get an earful about spoiled princes later. Still, she was making Arthur go to a musical. And in the box he would be in full view and wouldn’t be able to go to sleep or get drunk. “Well then,” Gwen started tapping furiously on her tablet. “I’ll just sort that out for you both. No trouble, really. See if you can come up with any more ideas!” She turned away, so didn’t see Merlin open his mouth to do just that. Arthur quickly shook his head, and thankfully Merlin had the sense not to say anything until she had walked away. Gwen travelled in one of the other cars to the Dragon Tower, and didn’t join them for lunch. Arthur guessed she was probably trying to sort out the changes, but suspected she was also keeping away in case they asked for more. “Thanks for getting the itinerary changed,” Merlin said when they finally stopped having to meet what appeared to be half the staff of the restaurant and could sit down and eat. “I really wanted to see all of Camelot while I’m here, not just…” he paused as a waiter approached and filled his glass. When the man had moved far enough away not to hear and be offended, Merlin continued in a whisper. “Not just Camelot’s version of Mercia.” Arthur poked dubiously at the food that had been put in front of him and thought he could see Merlin’s point. “The opera building isn’t that interesting.” “Oh, it is. I’m studying architecture at university, the central staircase is a work of art. And there’s a Palladian manor a few miles outside the city that I’d really like to see as well. It has a miniature suspension bridge in the grounds and those are just fascinating. Did you know that…” Arthur held a hand up. “Stop. No geeking out over buildings. If I fall asleep in the…” he picked up a forkful of whatever the blackened, sauce-covered thing on his plate was and regarded it dubiously. “Whatever this is, Gwaine will take pictures, sell them anonymously to the papers, and then I’ll have to listen to my father shouting.” Gwaine had done it before. Gwaine thought Arthur didn’t know it was him. Arthur wasn’t stupid. “It’s chicken,” Merlin told him, taking a mouthful. “Seared in dragonfire, or probably in this case the grill, and then sautéed in herbs and ginger. National dish. Eat up, if you’re lucky we’ll get pickled toad eyeballs for the main course. They’re a real Mercian delicacy!” Arthur hoped he was joking. There was a little twinkle in Merlin’s bright eyes as he spoke. “I love toad eyeballs,” Arthur replied, hoping fervently that they weren’t actually a thing. “Eat them all the time.” Merlin gave him a huge, disarming grin, then looked around for the waiter. “Don’t even think about it!” Arthur warned. “You’re breakfasting at mine, remember?” “Promises! Don’t let Gwaine hear you say that,” Merlin whispered. “He might get ideas.” And then he gave Arthur a look that, if Arthur didn’t know better, he would have thought was Merlin having ideas of his own. But that couldn’t be. Arthur took a bite of the chicken, and tried not to think about Merlin. But that was difficult when the man was sitting right there next to him. Fortunately the Mercian businessman who owned the restaurant had trotted out both his son and daughter for the event and was trying to engage Merlin’s attention at every opportunity. It was something that happened to Arthur frequently, and he could tell that Merlin was just as used to it by the politely interested replies that he was giving the man. Actually, Arthur thought, it was quite nice not being the one who had to suffer the attentions of a would-be father-of-the-consort. He took another sip of wine. Across the room Gwaine was helping himself to the buffet that had been put out for their entourage, and still managing to snap numerous photos at every opportunity. He saw Arthur looking, and winked at him. That probably meant he’d managed to get a shot that Arthur wouldn’t like. It usually did. Arthur gestured to the waiter for a refill, and hoped the meal wouldn’t go on for too much longer. --- The meal went on for two hours. By the end of it they’d had to listen to speeches from both the Mercian ambassador and the Mercian businessman, and several other people whose names and positions Arthur had already forgotten. Merlin had been monopolised for the entire time by people wanting his attention, and that had got tiresome quite quickly. Arthur was used to being considered the most interesting thing in the room unless his father was around, and often even then the eligible young prince tended to attract more social attention than the king. It was a curious change, and although it was in some ways a relief, Arthur thought that perhaps Merlin was turning out to be a bit better company than he’d always assumed, and he would have liked the chance to explore that discovery a little more. No chance, with them barely able to exchange more than a few words at a time before they got interrupted. When they finally got outside and Arthur saw the cars waiting, he barely suppressed a sigh of relief. He climbed in after Merlin and collapsed wearily onto the seat next to him. “God, that was tedious!” he sighed when the door was closed. Gwen was obviously still angry with him as she had taken the other car again to make herself less accessible. She did that from time to time, when he’d annoyed her during some official event. It was supposed to remind him who was actually in control, Lancelot had admitted once. Arthur supposed that Lancelot was reminded of the fact constantly, though as his bodyguard seemed blissfully happy with his domestic arrangements that probably wasn’t a bad thing. Now Arthur would have to spend the rest of the day relatively ignorant of what he’d be doing next. Apart from the musical. There would be no escape from that. He glanced at his watch. Four hours away. “Where are we going next?” Merlin asked. Arthur shrugged, not wanting to admit that he didn’t know. “Probably more of the same.” He tried not to examine the feelings that the disappointed look on Merlin’s face gave him. To his surprise, they stopped only a few minutes later, right outside the Camelot Eye, the huge sightseeing wheel that had been erected as part of the Millennium celebrations. There was, as always, a very long queue, probably made even longer by their arrival. Merlin looked over at it hopefully. “Do you think we’re going on that after all?” “If we are, you can bet you won’t be able to admire the sights because the owner and half the shareholders will be riding with us. Plus any eligible offspring.” Merlin shrugged. “At least it’s a proper tourist site.” The car door opened, and he scrambled out. Merlin really was far too undignified and enthusiastic to be proper royalty, Arthur thought as he followed him. He couldn’t help also thinking that it made a refreshing change. Gwen gave Arthur a stern look when he exited the car. “This wasn’t easy to arrange. Just make sure you both change very fast when we get back to the palace. We can just barely fit this into the schedule.” “You’re a star, Gwen,” Arthur assured her. “Yes!” Merlin agreed, and for a moment Arthur thought he was going to hug Gwen. He just fidgeted awkwardly instead and Arthur wondered if he’d just stopped himself. He wondered what he was going to have to do to get a hug. Then he shook his head, wondering where on earth that thought had come from. “Thank you so much for this.” “Just doing my job,” Gwen told him, but she looked pleased. She never looked particularly pleased when she was dealing with Arthur, he’d noticed. “Come on, you don’t want to miss the VIP car.” The wheel had slowed right down, almost to a standstill. It was never fast-moving, and Arthur supposed Gwen had pulled a few strings. Luckily it was a tourist crowd, and most of them seemed more interested in taking pictures of the royal visitors than in complaining at the delay. Arthur waved and smiled dutifully as some of the sightseers started to call out to him. Always on display. He hated it. One of the tourists called out something to Merlin, who ducked his head embarrassedly, blushed a little, then smiled and waved rather self-consciously. It provoked a squeal of delight from the crowd. Arthur could understand that, the blush was strangely endearing. He looked away before anyone noticed him staring, and walked a little faster. “Come on Merlin, keep up after Gwen’s gone to all this trouble,” he whispered. They hurried into the car, and Arthur was relieved to see that only a few people followed them. His bodyguards Lancelot and Leon, a couple of Camelot Eye staff, and Gwaine with his camera. Everyone else stayed behind. The two staff seemed to only be there to serve champagne, which was fine with Arthur. He thought it might mellow him enough that he would be able to cope with the dire musical later. As the doors closed, and they started to slowly move away, Merlin pulled out his phone. “I’m supposed to come back with pictures for my little sister,” he explained. “She’s missing me, and she wanted to come too.” Arthur hadn’t met Freya, but he’d seen a few pictures. Petite and fey, she was probably even more prone to crying than her older brother. “We’ll pick out some of the less dire ones that Gwaine’s taken for her.” “Oi! Right here,” Gwaine pointed out. He’d already got hold of a glass of champagne, had settled down on the bench and didn’t look as if he was going to take any more pictures for a few minutes. “She’s better off not coming on this one. She’d be bored,” Arthur admitted. “This isn’t the most exciting of tours. What is she, nine? Ten?” “Nine. But she wanted to meet Princess Morgana.” Merlin was smiling fondly just at the thought of his sister. Arthur couldn’t imagine ever feeling like that over Morgana. They’d fought for as long as he could remember. Though if anyone ever hurt her… He put that disturbing thought to one side, and tried not to imagine that the fond expression on Merlin’s face was actually directed at him. “Apparently your sister is the most beautiful woman on the planet and Freya wants to be just like her when she grows up.” “Heaven forbid! One is enough.” “She was charming to me when we met this morning. Much nicer than you were.” Well, of course Morgana would have already made sure she met the Mercian delegation. Arthur wasn’t quite sure when or how she’d done it, but that was just typical. “Don’t believe a word she tells you. She’s an evil witch.” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Okay. She said I was to let bygones be bygones, and that you’d changed, and that you weren’t the same horrible prat you were when you were seven. Is that wrong? I mean, judging by your earlier behaviour I thought it probably was, but now…” “No, obviously she’s right about that,” Arthur put in hurriedly. He wondered just what Morgana was up to, though he had an idea that she was still trying to matchmake. He looked at Merlin, appraisingly. It wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He’d certainly had worse options. Merlin gave him a quizzical look. “What?” “Nothing,” Arthur shook his head. “Morgana just has some strange ideas sometimes. Champagne?” The waiters were obviously listening as they were immediately at Arthur’s side, offering up flutes of sparkling alcohol. Arthur heard the click of Gwaine’s camera shutter as he handed Merlin a glass. Often he wished his life wasn’t so public, that he could get to know someone quietly, privately, away from the constant scrutiny. Merlin’s life had to be the same, although Mercia apparently didn’t have quite the same fascination with celebrity and royalty that Camelot did. Anything he said might be repeated back to the media by either of the two waiters, and Gwaine was always threatening to write his memoirs. It was probably a joke, but you could never be sure with Gwaine. Still, there were ways… Arthur held out his hand for the phone. “I’ll take one of you up here, your sister will like that.” After Merlin had posed for a couple of shots, Arthur took the opportunity to key in his private number. “Just in case you get lost on the tour, Merlin. We don’t want any more pictures of you crying in the papers.” Merlin rolled his eyes, but took the phone back with a half-smile. A few moments later Arthur’s phone bleeped softly. “Prat,” was all it said. But still, it meant he had Merlin’s number and a way to communicate privately. Merlin, with his hair mussed where he’d run his hand through it, who was grinning back at him cheekily and tilting his champagne flute in a mock salute, leaning against the rail, all of Camelot spread out behind him. Faintly, Arthur heard the click of Gwaine’s camera yet again. --- There was no sign of the king when they returned to the palace. George, his father’s horribly correct PA, was waiting at the door to Arthur’s chambers with a message. Uther wanted a full report on how the day had gone during their breakfast meeting the next morning. Arthur hated breakfast meetings. They weren’t so much breakfast as crack of dawn meetings. Sometimes it was still dark outside, occasionally even in the summer. He knew his father tended to hold them when he suspected Arthur was going to be hungover, or likely to let him down in some other way. Uther had told him as much after the nightclub incident… one of the nightclub incidents. “How are the talks going?” Arthur asked, pausing before going into his rooms. George drew himself up to his full height (which was still only up to Arthur’s shoulder) and puffed out his chest a little. “I’m not at liberty to divulge such things.” Arthur was heir to the throne. He was going to be king one day. He’d be redeploying George into a job more suited to his skills and Arthur’s good mental health at the earliest opportunity. “Fine. Tell my father that I’ll see him in the morning.” George strode off importantly. Arthur reluctantly set his alarm for six. Unless the evening was a disaster and he got an early night, he’d be tired all day tomorrow. --- The evening was not a disaster. Arthur knew it wouldn’t be when he walked down to the foyer, Leon at his heels, and saw Merlin already there, talking to Morgana. In black tie, still flushed and slightly damp from the shower he looked good enough to eat. Morgana of course looked fabulous in her deep green evening gown, but then she always did. “Arthur, finally!” He wasn’t late and he knew it, so he just ignored her. “I apologise for anything my sister has said or will say to you,” he told Merlin as they headed for the car. “She’s been charming,” Merlin insisted. “Hah!” “I have stilettos on,” Morgana called over her shoulder. “I’ll be sitting beside you, brother dear. Be nice.” Arthur was going to see a musical with singing and dancing dragon puppets. With his sister and entourage there to ruin the fact that he would be sitting in a darkened room for several hours with the distractingly tempting Mercian prince. He didn’t feel particularly nice, even when his feet were being threatened with GBH. “You see?” he whispered to Merlin. “Witch.” Morgana, however, was surprisingly pleasant in the car for most of the journey. She looked even more smug than usual, and spent most of the journey either asking Merlin questions about his homeland or distracting Leon from doing his job. Arthur thought that unless any would-be assassin popped up from between Morgana’s breasts, then his bodyguard wasn’t likely to notice. “Is it true,” Morgana asked, leaning forward and giving them all an eyeful that Arthur thought he might need counselling for, “that in Mercia, it’s the men who give birth?” Merlin glanced at Arthur, then down, blushing adorably. “Sometimes. Some men. Usually only those with dragonlord blood. There’s a spell…” “You have dragonlord blood, don’t you?” “Morgana!” Merlin looked a little uncomfortable, but nodded. “You don’t have to answer her questions,” Arthur told him. “Honestly, Morgana. We’re not here to interrogate him.” “It’s okay,” Merlin assured him. “See? He doesn’t mind. So did your father have you or was it your mother?” “Well… I’m the heir so it had to be my father. But Mum had Freya.” “Ah.” Morgana sat back, regarding Merlin with quite a predatory look on her face. “So… You’ll have to carry your heir?” “Morgana!” “Yes. It removes the question of succession, you see. There’s no doubt, can never be any doubt, that the child is the rightful heir to the throne.” Merlin glanced at Arthur again, then away. “And you choose, when the time’s right. There are never any accidents. The child’s always wanted. It’s a good way.” “And it wouldn’t matter if you married a man or a woman either? A huge step forward for gay rights.” Morgana smiled at Arthur, and there was definitely smugness there. Evidently she hadn’t given up on her earlier ideas. Arthur, however, was no longer adverse to them. Although it would be strange having a pregnant male partner. Mercians were certainly different. “Some male dragonlords marry other men,” Merlin told her. “And some marry women. And some female dragonlords marry women too.” “And,” Morgana asked, glancing at Arthur and ignoring the pointed shushing motions he was making. “Which will you be marrying, Merlin?” “Leave him alone, you harpy,” Arthur hissed. “He’s marrying me!” Gwaine yelled from the front seat where he’d been relegated. “So hands off!” Arthur revised his opinion of Gwaine. He had his uses after all. Merlin lost the rabbit caught in headlights look that he’d gained since Morgana’s interrogation had started, and gave a small, relieved laugh. “Yes, that’s right, I’m marrying Gwaine.” “You heard it here first!” Gwaine called. “Now get those puppies out of his face, Morgs. You’re wasting your time!” Morgana just smiled at Arthur, and when he scowled back at her she looked more smug than ever. Even when they arrived, and she was posing for the sea of photographers, Arthur didn’t think she looked as pleased with herself as she had at that particular moment. Merlin and he waited patiently whilst the media got their fill, though only Gwaine was allowed to follow them inside for official shots. Arthur supposed that Gwaine was probably one of the few who had managed to get shots of himself and Merlin outside the theatre as well, given the love affair everyone had with Morgana and her low-cut dresses. Arthur hated the theatre. It wasn’t so much the theatre itself, actually he appreciated a good production, it was more that he hated where he had to sit. It was almost always in a box, in full view of the audience and cast, and at an awkward angle to the stage. He looked enviously at the people down in the stalls, or even up in the cheap seats. They all blended in together, nobody stared at them and if they happened to fall asleep or look bored during the production, nobody would take much notice. If Arthur so much as stifled a yawn it would be all over the papers. “Ladies first!” Morgana announced as they entered the box, and flounced over to the seat nearest the stage, pausing for a moment to enjoy the ripple of applause and wave to their fellow theatre- goers before she sat down. Merlin sat beside her, and Arthur found himself in the third seat. It was probably the least visible of the three, which was something to be vaguely grateful for. It also, he realised as he sat down, meant that he could watch Merlin instead of the play if he wanted to and nobody would notice. Leon and Lancelot were sitting at the back. Gwaine had vanished, doubtless taking advantage of the bar and his expenses sheet. Merlin turned to smile at him. “It’s a beautiful theatre.” Arthur tried to dredge up some useful and interesting fact about the place from a visit a few years ago when it had been refurbished, but he couldn’t think of a thing when Merlin was smiling at him like that. “It’s quite old. Very old.” Morgana looked across at him pityingly. Fortunately he was spared any further embarrassment, as the lights went down and the orchestra began to play the introduction. It was loud and dramatic, and completely over the top. As it turned out, that set the scene for the entire show. The star-crossed lovers at the centre of the drama warbled tearfully that they could never be together, whilst the vast dragon puppets sailed around them and the orchestra thundered and tinkled in turns. Merlin was, Arthur thought, very good at pretending that he was enjoying it. He clapped enthusiastically in all the appropriate places, laughed at the jokes, and gasped with everyone else when the giant dragon puppet suddenly appeared in a flash of fire in the middle of the stage. Even Arthur thought that bit was fairly good. When the curtain went down for the interval, Merlin was applauding almost as hard as the people down in the stalls who had come dressed up as the protagonists. “That was brilliant!” he enthused. Arthur had mostly just enjoyed watching Merlin and had thought the musical as ridiculous as he had expected, but he wasn’t going to admit to that so he just nodded. “I liked the bit where the dragon exploded onto the stage.” “Yes! And the smaller puppets were very clever. Someone has studied how they move and got it just right. It’s really effective. They should tour in Mercia, people would love it.” “You can tell them that when we have to meet the cast afterwards,” Arthur told him. “I will!” Merlin glanced back at the closed curtain, and it suddenly occurred to Arthur how handsome the male lead was. He wondered if it was actually the dragons that Merlin was interested in. The second half was just as loud and over the top as the first, and Arthur allowed himself a brief comfort break whilst the dragons were roaring their fury at the supposed demise of the heroine. Lancelot followed him, and they made their way along the deserted corridor to the gents. The advantage of the uncomfortable box seats were that they could leave without disturbing anyone, and there was no queue, but having to avoid going out during the interval also meant that he always had to miss part of the play. “I suppose Gwen is threatening to join the republican movement again?” Arthur asked as they walked back. “Merlin sent her flowers earlier as a thank you for rearranging things. She thinks he’s wonderful. You, not so much,” Lancelot admitted. Everyone loved Merlin, apparently. And if Arthur did the same thing it would just look as if he were copying now. They were approaching the little stall near the stairs that sold snacks and programmes and, because the musical was so popular, souvenirs. “I could get her chocolates,” he suggested, looking at the uninspiring range on offer. Perhaps a call to Thorntons in the morning might be better. “She’ll think you’re sickening for something,” Lancelot advised. “No, don’t worry. Gwen’s worked for you for long enough, she knows what you’re like.” There was a small, plush dragon staring at him from the top of the stall. It was various shades of green, and had a small heart dangling from the collar around its neck. Arthur picked it up and looked at it. “Honestly, Arthur, she’s fine with Merlin’s flowers.” It was very similar to the little toy Arthur had ruined years ago. Arthur knew, he’d seen enough pictures of the wretched thing. “I’ll send her some next week, when the visit’s over. She does a good job, we don’t appreciate her enough. I’ll tell her as much.” He turned the dragon over, checked the price, and then looked at Lancelot a little sheepishly because nobody had thought to put any money out when they left him his evening clothes back at the palace. “Can you lend me fifteen pounds?” --- Merlin glanced up briefly when Arthur took his seat, but he was still enthralled by the show, which appeared to be nearing its dramatic and noisy climax. Arthur couldn’t help watching his reactions rather than the play. Dragons aside, Merlin was more entertaining. He regretted it a few moments later when he realised Morgana had noticed, a knowing smile playing about her lips. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long before the teasing started. He’d probably made her evening. Arthur, apparently, was the only person in the audience who hadn’t loved the show. The cast had two standing ovations, which Merlin joined in with enthusiastically. Arthur had never given anyone a standing ovation in his life, and he was somewhat mortified to be doing so for a singing and dancing dragon. Still, the cast were beaming happily up at them, and Merlin was grinning back delightedly… yes, that lead actor really was far too good looking. They were ushered out to some stairs away from the main exits that would, Arthur knew, lead down to the backstage area. He knew all this routine, shaking hands, congratulating them all on a wonderful performance and almost sleepwalked through it. The sooner it was over with the better. Merlin didn’t seem to have picked up on that, and stood chatting with the two leads and the main puppeteer for ages after they had gone down the line-up. Gwaine didn’t help, insisting on taking pictures of him with the cast and the dragon. Arthur was aware that Morgana kept glancing down curiously at the bag Arthur was carrying. Not knowing what was in there would probably be killing her. He clung on tightly, resolving not to hand it over whilst she was around if he could help it. That actor really was smiling far too much at Merlin though. “What’s in the bag?” Gwaine asked, poking at it because Gwaine was just nosey and didn’t stand on ceremony with anyone. Except the king, whom he flattered and photoshopped in equal measure. Uther wasn’t kidding when he commented that Gwaine’s pictures took a good ten years off him. Never was an employee in less risk of losing their job. “A souvenir.” Arthur moved it as far from Gwaine as he could. Unfortunately that put it in easy range of Morgana, who grabbed it eagerly and peeked inside. She handed it back with a knowing smile. “Oh Arthur,” she said softly. “That’s terribly sweet.” And then she grabbed Gwaine by the arm, and dragged him over to the giant dragon puppet, demanding that he get on with his job and take pictures of her with it. It was as far away from Arthur as possible to get without actually leaving. The more publicity-hungry members of the cast (which included, Arthur was pleased to see, the male lead) gathered around her like moths to a flame, leaving Merlin momentarily abandoned. Arthur took the opportunity and moved to stand beside him. “Still want your little sister to meet Morgana?” he asked. Morgana was climbing up onto the dragon’s back with the two leads, recreating one of the major scenes except with added show-off princess. Her dress was doing very little to cover her legs, and Arthur could imagine how delighted their father was going to be in the morning when he saw the pictures in the paper. Perhaps they wouldn’t be in the early editions and he would be spared the ranting… “Freya would adore her,” Merlin told him. “Though our father would probably have something to say if he thought his precious little princess was being led astray.” “Not your mother?” “She’d probably join in. No, you’re right, Morgana shouldn’t meet either of them.” They both laughed, though Arthur couldn’t help wondering wistfully what it would be like to have a mother like that. He didn’t think it would be something he could ever really feel embarrassed about. Morgana’s mother had been cool and distant towards him, and it had been no great loss when she’d scandalously divorced their father and abandoned them all. At least she’d left Morgana. He would have hated to lose that horrible harpy who was his arch-nemesis and best friend all rolled into one. “Very wise. Oh,” Arthur tried to make it sound like the most casual thing in the world. “I got you this. To, you know, make up for the one I drowned.” He handed over the rather crumpled bag, and watched Merlin’s expression go from puzzlement to delight as he reached in and held up the dragon, laughing. “I love this! Thank you!” Just for a moment Merlin moved as if he were about to kiss him, then thought better of it and hugged him instead. “Thank you!” Merlin felt every bit as good as Arthur had supposed, warm and vital against him. He let the embrace linger, only pulling away reluctantly when Merlin gave a little chuckle, and the motion sent a little frisson of want through Arthur. It was, Arthur realised, time to stop avoiding the attraction he was feeling and do something about it. Because Merlin would be gone in a few days, or sooner if their fathers screwed up the talks. Merlin held up the little toy, grinning broadly, though Arthur didn’t miss the faint flush across his cheeks. “Are you trying to crush this one instead of drowning it?” “I wouldn’t mind trying.” Arthur knew he was grinning right back like an idiot, but he didn’t care. “Hmm, I was right about you. Poor dragons don’t stand a chance. Lucky it’s your sister up on that model and not you or you’d be trying to slay it.” Arthur didn’t look, because he was far too distracted by the way Merlin’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he spoke. But if he had, he would have seen that from her vantage point high on the dragon, Morgana wasn’t missing a thing. --- There were far too many people in the car on the way back. Not for the first time, Arthur wished he was just a regular member of society. It was almost impossible, if he was interested in someone, not to carry out every moment of the courtship with someone watching, even if it was just the bodyguards. It was so much more difficult when the object of his affections was his opposite number in a rival state. Merlin was whisked away by Balinor as soon as the car arrived back at the palace. The Mercian king looked tired and drawn, and just about managed a civil greeting to Morgana. He might not even have noticed Arthur had Merlin not called out goodnight to him, and even then it was barely a nodded acknowledgement that he got. It didn’t bode very well. Wearily, Arthur made his way back to his rooms, repaid Lancelot for the toy, and collapsed on his bed. Finally there was a little peace and quiet. That lasted almost fifteen minutes, before there was a rap on his door. “You opened that very quickly,” Morgana pointed out as she swept past him. She’d changed into a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of leggings and she still looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. “Expecting someone else?” Arthur didn’t bother asking who. “Did you want something, Morgana?” he asked wearily, wandering back to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it. “Only it’s been a long day…” “Merlin’s nice.” “Yes, he is. Is that all?” “I see you bought him a present... Well, strictly Lancelot did, but…” She paused, seeing his face. “Oh come on, do you think Gwen wouldn’t already have told me that? I hope you’ve paid him back.” “I have. Is there anything that man does without telling his wife about it? Aren’t there privacy rules written into his contract?” “I don’t think they cover the purchase of small furry dragons,” Morgana mused. “It was very sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do anything so sweet. It’s a whole new fluffy side to you. I like it. If this is the effect he’s had already, I can’t wait till you start shagging him. You’ll be so much nicer!” “It was just a spur of the moment thing,” Arthur sighed. He was starting to regret it already. “Yes! You don’t do those. You were rapidly turning into a dreary and boring replica of our father.” Arthur was no such thing. He went out with his friends all the time and had lots of fun, lots of wild times. Or, at least he went to bars and clubs with Gwaine and got drunk, while Leon or Lancelot stood beside them looking either worried or disapproving. But it was fun. Usually. Sometimes. “The papers don’t think I’m boring.” “No, they think you’re a joke.” That stung. “At least I’m not a clothes horse.” But he knew people loved Morgana because of her charity work. She did as much as his mother had once done, and could wear all the fancy dresses in the world, nobody would ever think of her as a joke. She knew it, as well, not even bothering to acknowledge what he’d said. “I hope you’re not going to be rude to Merlin.” “Why are you so keen on this?” Arthur sighed. Morgana never encouraged any of his liaisons, ever. “Why do you think? He’s a dragonlord, Arthur. He can pop out the royal heir and spare, which, given your preferences, means I won’t be expected to continue the line. Plus he’s a sweetheart. I’d love him as a brother-in-law. And let’s not forget the whole political angle, and the advantages there.” “I’m not marrying anyone for political reasons,” Arthur growled. “Quite right. Did I mention he’s a sweetheart? He’d make you happy. And besides, you already adore him, I can tell.” Right on cue, Arthur’s phone bleeped with an incoming message. “Is that him?” It was. There was a little photo attached of the dragon toy and ‘See you in the morning, thanks again for this. X’ Arthur couldn’t help smiling at it. Especially the X. Morgana gave a disgusted sigh. “Oh you’ve got it bad, you should see your face. I’m going before I puke. Just remember he’s only here for as long as those talks last. And they aren’t going well. Move it, Arthur!” And with that she left, closing the door behind her and leaving him to his thoughts. --- Breakfast with his father went just as well as Arthur had expected. It was far too early, and Arthur had spent far too long the previous night sending texts back and forth to Merlin. Uther was in a bad mood. He wasn’t enjoying the peace talks, he hated the idea of being forced into some sort of alliance when he would vastly prefer just to overrun Mercia and take it over. “In the old days we wouldn’t have bothered with talks,” he told Arthur. Arthur thought of Merlin in armour, scarred and bruised but defiant. It was a delicious image. He wondered if the Mercian prince might be interested in roleplay. That could be fun. Still, he wouldn’t have wanted to fight him for real. “I suppose that boy is as empty-headed as he looks? Are you managing not to make him cry this time around?” “Actually, he’s quite clever. He’s been studying architecture. They’re constructing a new palace and he’s helping design one of the wings.” Uther gave a contemptuous snort. “What use is that to someone who’s heir to the throne? Politics and Business, then go into the military for a while. Excellent grounding. Two years in the RAF did you the world of good, didn’t it?” Two years in the RAF, not allowed to be posted anywhere dangerous, quickly promoted beyond what was reasonable, and then discharged before he’d been allowed to do anything useful. It had done nothing for him other than emphasise how different he was. And instilled a love of flying. That, at least, was something. “Yes, Father.” Uther grunted in what might have been approval. “Well, do what you can with the boy. It won’t be for long, these talks aren’t going well. Balinor is an idealistic, narrow-minded fool. As if I’d ever let his wretched dragons over Camelot skies. Can you imagine if they ran into a plane? The carnage. They might…” Arthur couldn’t really see any reason for that to stop the advent of a time of peace. He let his father’s voice wash over him, and thought of blue eyes and a bright smile. --- Gwen had looked quite startled when Arthur arrived in the foyer a good fifteen minutes before they were due to leave. He’d gone looking for Merlin, but apparently Arthur wasn’t the only one who had to have an early meeting with their father. Waiting near the car seemed a good idea, and it had the added bonus of appeasing Gwen, who had managed to fit in a quick visit to the new opera house for them before they went to the zoo. It was Merlin, in fact, who was a few minutes late, running into the foyer without the slightest attempt at dignity. Arthur wondered what sort of etiquette they were taught in Mercia, as it was starting to look questionable as to whether there was any at all. “Have you even tried to comb your hair this morning?” Arthur whispered as they climbed into the car. “Honestly, Merlin, it looks as if you fell out of bed on your head!” He opened up the little compartment in the back of the seat in front of him, and rummaged through to find a comb. “Here.” Merlin made some attempt, but his hair was sticking up in very odd directions when he’d finished so Arthur grabbed the comb and did it himself. There was an audible click from behind him. “Print that picture and I’ll have you put in the tower, Gwaine,” Arthur warned. He didn’t look away. Merlin’s face was very close, watching him, half-amused, half something else. His hair was very soft. Arthur really, really wanted to throw the comb away and just run his fingers through it. And kiss those lips. Definitely that. “It’s priceless. Are you trying to replace his mum?” Gwaine laughed. “I am nothing like his mother,” Arthur growled at the same time that Merlin gave a little yelp of horrified protest at the idea. “For a start, I would have taught him better personal grooming…” He heard Gwaine snort with laughter, and then the click of the camera again. Gwaine was definitely heading for the tower. --- Apparently the opera house had been fascinating. Arthur couldn’t see it himself, but he’d enjoyed listening to Merlin enthusing about it and had walked around with him, claiming he was getting an education. They had a couple of cameramen from Mercia with them as well, filming the second day of the tour for a brief news item on Mercia TV as apparently it was more interesting than the snippets that were coming from the conference. Gwaine was a bit put out about their being there, although it had been some of his pictures in the early editions that morning that had been the main cause. Arthur doubted he would be portrayed kindly on the broadcast, he’d seen a few stories in the Mercian papers over the past few years and even without the dragon toy in the fountain incident, they hadn’t been impressed with his nocturnal escapades. He tried not to think about them being there, and concentrated on being pleasant and charming. The zoo was more to Arthur’s taste than the opera house. It was privately owned and newly opened. There were animals, after all. Lions and tigers and things that he knew about. And penguins, which apparently they were going to be allowed to help feed. He was quite looking forward to that. But first, they had to visit the reptile house then perform the official opening ceremony that afternoon. It wasn’t so much of a house, unless the house was the size of an aircraft hangar. “This,” Mordred Black, the rather young managing director of the zoo, told them proudly as he led them past small lizards and snakes in large glass cases, “is our newest exhibit. No other zoo has one in captivity. We’re the first.” He beamed at Merlin. “You’ll be particularly interested in this one, your highness.” Arthur suddenly had a horrible sense of foreboding. The reptile house was, after all, far too large for all the small creatures that they were passing. “Perhaps you should tell us what…” he began, but it was too late. The double doors they were being taken through opened up to reveal a huge pen dug down well into the earth and that rose up to the domed ceiling of the reptile house. And there, right in the middle of it, curled up on a rock and shivering miserably, was a small white dragon. Merlin gave a cry of distress and raced to the glass, pressing his face against it. The little dragon raised its head and looked towards him, then gave a plaintive, wailing call. Arthur could see Merlin react to it, staggering a little, almost as if the call had physically hit him, and he ran to the man’s side. “Merlin? Are you okay?” Merlin gazed at him in confusion, almost as if he were looking at a complete stranger, then looked back at the dragon. The creature was struggling to its feet now, shaking out stunted little wings. “I need to go to him.” The dragon gave another cry, and Merlin gasped as if it had hurt him, then started moving along the side of the cage, searching for a way in, pressing on the glass. “Let me in.” He sounded dazed. Arthur stared for a moment, then turned to glare at Mordred. “Let him in. Unlock the door.” The man took a step back. “It’s a dragon!” “Well, I can see that!” Arthur snapped. “What the hell were you thinking of? He’s a dragonlord! Open the door.” “It’s priceless… and it might be dangerous…” “It won’t harm him.” Arthur didn’t know a lot about dragonlords, but he was fairly certain of that one fact. He was aware that the cameraman was still filming and that he was unlikely to come out of this well, but that would all have to be dealt with later. “They have some sort of bond. Now open the door! ” He shouted the last few words, and Merlin turned to look at him, eyes wide with concern. “Arthur, he’s frightened.” “We’ll get you in there, don’t worry,” Arthur assured him. He glanced back at Mordred, who was just standing there apparently at a loss as to what to do. “Unlock the door, that’s an order! Now!” A female employee of the zoo made the decision for him. She hurried forward with a key and quickly opened the door to the cage, standing back immediately as Merlin rushed past her and raced over to the dragon. He greeted it in a foreign tongue, his voice sounding deeper, stronger than Arthur had ever heard it. “What’s he doing?” Mordred breathed. “God, if that thing attacks him…” “Of course it won’t attack him!” Arthur snapped. He wasn’t quite sure what Merlin was doing, but he was fairly sure from the way that the little dragon was behaving that the Mercian prince was quite safe. The dragon was struggling to stand up, and was trying to rub his head affectionately against Merlin’s chest. The crying had stopped, although it was making other noises. Merlin seemed to be responding, almost as if they were talking to each other. Arthur wished he’d bothered to find out a bit more about a dragonlord and what they could do. “Perhaps we should shut the cage door?” Mordred wondered. “If he’s really safe… those things can be dangerous.” Arthur glared at the man, seeing his cowardice for what it was. He certainly wasn’t going to stand for Merlin being locked in anywhere. “The only thing that’s dangerous here is that you’ve seen fit to capture a dragon! There are laws…” “It was crippled!” the man exclaimed. “The law states if they’re crippled it’s kinder to keep them in captivity. It would die out in the wild!” “Not in Mercia,” one of the cameramen pointed out. “There are protected parks where we let them live out their days. It’s not captivity, and they’re run by charities. My kids love going there at the weekends. None of the dragons are shut in like this. They’d hate it.” “Sounds like the sort of place this one should go to.” Arthur looked back at the dark pen. He wondered if the zoo had employed any real experts on dragoncare. On impulse, he walked in, ignoring the worried protests from Leon when he did so. Merlin was sitting with the dragon now, getting it to lift its wings so that he could look closer. Arthur slowly walked towards them, not wanting to startle the beast. “How badly is it hurt?” he asked softly. “Bad enough,” Merlin answered without looking around. “Someone’s deliberately clipped his wings. He’s young, we might be able to do something to help him if we get him to a specialist right away but he’ll never be able to fly as well as he should if he hadn’t been maimed.” The dragon gave a low wail as Merlin started to stretch out his second wing, and Merlin immediately stopped and began making soothing noises. “Sorry… sorry, it’s okay, shhh… I need to get him out of here, Arthur.” Arthur had gathered that much. He crouched down beside Merlin, still speaking softly so as not to scare the frightened creature further. “Tell me what you need. Gwen’s got a whole team of people on the end of her phone, we’ll have him home in no time.” “Thank you.” Merlin looked up, briefly. “Someone cut him, Arthur. I’ve heard about this in other countries, I didn’t think Camelot would do it. It’s to get around the law, have a captive dragon through the loopholes. It’s a clean, debilitating slice.” Arthur held his gaze steadily, trying to convey his own sincerity. “Camelot didn’t do this. One greedy citizen did it and I’ll have them closed down for it. And I’ll sort out getting your dragon home. So, details, Merlin. Tell me what you need.” --- If anyone had told Arthur a week previously that he would be sitting in the cargo hold of an aircraft in a special custom-built crate with an injured young dragon and the heir to the Mercian throne, and flying back to Mercia in said crate, he would have laughed at them. The hold was pressurised and temperate, and there were all sorts of health and safety guidelines in place for take-off and landing, but all the same he was in the cargo hold. The little dragon (Aithusa, Merlin said he was called) was extremely well behaved, though Arthur supposed that was largely due to Merlin. Aithusa lay quietly for the entire flight, with his head resting in Merlin’s lap for most of it. At one stage he even let Arthur take Merlin’s place while the young dragonlord stretched his legs. It was an amazing feeling, having the abused creature trust him enough to do that, though Arthur noticed that as soon as they hit a little turbulence Aithusa was looking round for Merlin again. Gwen had been amazing. Arthur was sure she needed a promotion after this. She’d organised the flight, called a number Merlin had given her to ensure there was a sanctuary waiting to receive them in Mercia, and had then cancelled everything they were supposed to be doing for the rest of the day. Probably her team had done much of it, but it had all been very fast, very slick, and removed any risk that Merlin and his people might think they’d had anything to do with the cruelty shown to the little dragon. Arthur had vague recollections of shouting a lot, particularly at the income-hungry Mordred and his staff. He hadn’t been able to help himself, Merlin had been horribly upset by the plight of the dragon and Arthur didn’t like seeing the dragon or Merlin in such distress. Shouting, he supposed, was probably something he’d learned from his father. Gwen’s kind heart meant that she had needed no encouragement at all for her part in it, he’d seen her eyes well up with tears when Merlin had shown her the damaged wing, and she’d been on her phone in moments. He supposed that the cancellation of the rest of that day’s tour, and most of all the fact that he was flying off to Mercia with no notice and little in the way of security, was going to earn him one of the more memorable breakfast meetings with his father tomorrow, but right then he didn’t care. He was content enough, sitting there, watching Merlin with the dragon. “We’re starting our descent,” the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Either strap yourselves in or hold on tight.” Merlin looked up, and caught Arthur gazing at him. He smiled, and Arthur thought perhaps it was the same warm, gentle, adoring smile he was giving the precious dragon. Arthur didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him like that before. “You’d better strap yourself in,” Merlin told him. “I’m staying in here with you.” Merlin shook his head. “If you want to help, sit outside and put on a seatbelt. If it’s a rough landing, you’ll be more help if you’re safely out there than if we’re both crushed by an unintentionally flying dragon.” Aithusa gave a mournful little cry, and Merlin bent over him again, stroking his neck, and said something in the dragon tongue. “He’s worried he’s going to hurt me.” “He’s not the only one.” Arthur had helped lift Aithusa onto the trolley that had transported him to the plane. The dragon might be small, but he certainly wasn’t light. “Don’t risk it, Merlin. Come and sit out there with me. Aithusa wants you to.” The dragon gave a plaintive wail, which Arthur hoped meant he agreed. “And you’ll ruin the peace talks if you get squashed. I really want those peace talks to work, don’t you?” Merlin looked up, and there was that loving look again. Arthur thought he could drown in it and die happy. “Oh yes. I’m not done with Camelot yet.” “I’m not done with Mercia either,” Arthur whispered, leaning close to breathe in Merlin’s ear. They really were the most ridiculously large ears, and possibly the most adorable at the same time. Arthur wondered if he was losing it if he was focussing on Merlin’s ears now, of all things. “I’m not done with their prince. I don’t want him hurt, or worse. I’d like to take him back to the palace after this, and go on a private tour…” Merlin’s eyes widened slightly, and Arthur could see a faint blush starting to colour his pale skin. “…just the two of us. I’d like to take him back to my rooms, and lock the door, and take…” Aithusa drowned out what Arthur wanted to take with a lengthy diatribe of his own. Merlin looked up at Arthur a little sheepishly. “What did he say?” “Um… he’s really happy for us that you… um… want to mate with me and he thinks we should breed a whole herd of little dragonlords… but can we both stop now because he doesn’t want to hear all the details.” “Cockblocker,” Arthur told the white dragon, though there was no malice in his voice. Aithusa just gave a little sneeze… although a little sneeze, even for such a small dragon, resulted in a tiny puff of smoke. The pilot called over the intercom again that they needed to strap themselves in, and Arthur got up. Merlin, he could tell, was going to stay exactly where he was. He was more than tempted to do the same himself, but Merlin was right that he needed to be safe and ready to help if things went wrong. “Be careful,” Arthur warned, and then on impulse leaned down and kissed him. Merlin tasted of hope and promises and the horrible coffee they’d been given on the plane. It tasted better on Merlin. “I’ll see you when we’ve landed.” The smile he got back was nothing like the one Merlin gave the dragon, nothing at all. --- The dragon sanctuary was an amazing place. Percival, the head ranger, was a giant of a man who boarded the plane as soon as it landed. He seemed to know Merlin quite well, and Arthur tried not to feel jealous at the friendly way Merlin greeted him. Aithusa seemed happy enough with the newcomer. Just a few hours with Merlin had calmed the dragon right down. Getting Aithusa’s crate off the plane was a lot harder than getting him on there, but Percival’s team managed it, and soon the little dragon was safely in a warm and dry stable where he could rest and be examined and treated. Percival was convinced they would be able to heal most of the damage, and hoped that in time Aithusa would be strong enough to fly again. As Merlin was busy with the dragon, and likely to be for some time, Arthur took some time to call Gwen and find out what was going on at home. Unsurprisingly his father had already heard about the trip and was furious. Arthur wasn’t looking forward to their return. To kill time he wandered around the yard, peering into a couple of the stables but they all appeared to be empty so he walked back into Aithusa’s stall and leaned against the wall, waiting. He supposed this was what it was like for Merlin, visiting Camelot. Everything was slightly different to what he was used to, and he wasn’t the crown prince that everyone was interested in. In a way, it was a refreshing change. Someone gave him coffee. It tasted different to anything he’d had in Camelot, slightly more bitter with a stronger aroma, very good. He would be asking Merlin to send him some, he decided. One of the cameramen had left, presumably taking their footage back to the studio, but the other one was still busily filming Merlin and Aithusa. When Merlin finally got up and obviously very reluctantly left Aithusa to Percival’s care, the cameraman stayed focused on the dragon. “Dragons are very important to my people,” Merlin explained as they left the stable. “It’s rare to use a plane in Mercia, most of our travel is via these beautiful creatures, and they have countless other powers. Whoever crippled Aithusa would be committing an act close to treason as far as we’re concerned.” “You’ll have the full support of Camelot in finding the perpetrator,” Arthur promised. “You have my word.” “Thank you.” Merlin looked up at the sky worriedly. It was starting to grow dark now. “Have you called home? I don’t want your father thinking we’ve kidnapped you.” Arthur shrugged. “He knows where I am. Apparently he’s in a foul mood. There was supposed to be that big parade this afternoon, remember? So I’m in no hurry to go home.” He looked around. “Where are the dragons? I’d like to see them.” “Mostly out hunting, probably. They roam very freely here. You could meet my father’s dragon, if you like. He lives here when my father doesn’t need him. If he’s in a good mood he might even let us ride him.” “Or he might eat me,” Arthur pointed out. “Possibly.” That didn’t make Arthur feel any more confident, although he took heart from the fact that Merlin smirked when he said it. --- Kilgharrah was the biggest dragon Arthur had ever seen. Admittedly he was only the fourth dragon Arthur had ever seen, one being Aithusa and the other two being a couple of small green dragons that had flown overhead whilst he was walking with Merlin down to see Kilgharrah. He was almost as big as the plane they’d flown in on, and the gust of air as he flew down to meet them made Arthur stagger back a little. “Young Emrys.” The dragon inclined his head a little in a respectful bow. “And the Pendragon boy.” There was no such bow for Arthur. “Two sides of the same coin.” Arthur didn’t like this dragon as much as Aithusa, he decided. Boy, indeed. “He likes to sprout about destiny,” Merlin whispered. “You should have heard him when we announced the trip to Camelot. He’s very old and comes out with some strange things.” “Not so old that I can’t hear you, young dragonlord,” Kilgharrah rumbled. “You have not succeeded your father yet.” “Why can I understand him?” Arthur whispered. “I couldn’t understand Aithusa.” “With great age comes great wisdom,” the dragon replied. “I have knowledge of many tongues. Can you say the same? Or would you go from country to country, expecting everyone to learn your language and making no effort of your own to learn theirs?” It was the latter, but Arthur didn’t think he would dignify the dragon’s accusation with a reply. The great beast’s huge head moved closer, examining him. Arthur tried not to flinch, even when he could feel the creature’s warm breath. “That’s enough,” Merlin warned. “I brought Arthur out here to meet you. Arthur could make a difference, if he could see dragons can be good, peaceful creatures…” Kilgharrah laughed at that, loud and hard. “Ah, young dragonlord. You and Arthur are destined to make a great change, to bind your lands together and build a new Albion. Yes…” Arthur looked up, waiting for the dragon to finish. The huge scaly head was focused on him, as if Kilgharrah was assessing him. And then, completely without warning, he was engulfed in a blast of cold fire from the dragon’s nostrils. For a moment it was all Arthur could do not to scream, expecting a searing, probably fatal pain. There was nothing, just a gentle warmth throughout his body as if he’d drunk a warmed wine on a cold day. Merlin was yelling furiously at the dragon, who appeared to be just mildly amused. “I’m okay,” Arthur assured him. “Merlin, I’m okay.” “You should listen, young Emrys. Now take your mate and climb up on my back. I will take you both back to Camelot.” Mate… There was something satisfyingly primal about the term, and Merlin didn’t seem to be rejecting it. In fact, he was giving Arthur a small, slightly self-conscious smile. Arthur was starting to see what Merlin saw in these dragons. Kilgharrah was considerably larger and more terrifying than sweet little Aithusa, but at least he accepted what Arthur hoped was his blossoming relationship with Merlin. If only their fathers were likely to be as approving. Ah yes, his father… “Dragons are banned…” Arthur began, but Merlin shook his head. “Not always. As long as we call ahead we’ll be okay. How do you think we arrived?” That, Arthur realised, was probably why they had been wearing those strange outfits. Merlin had fetched them both a couple of thick overcoats and a pair of gloves before they’d gone out to see the dragons. Arthur had been getting overly warm during the walk and grumbled they were unnecessary, but they didn’t seem enough now. “Won’t we be cold?” “He’s like a furnace,” Merlin assured him. “Come on, call Gwen or Leon or someone. Get us clearance. Kilgharrah knows the approved route. Have Gwaine waiting at the other end to take photos, he’s probably still sulking about being left behind when we left with Aithusa and the Mercian camera crew.” Arthur did as he was bid, and was a little put out to find Gwen wasn’t at all surprised that they would be flying back. Apparently he was the only one who hadn’t seen Kilgharrah arrive with the male side of the Mercian royal family on his back a few days earlier. In the meantime, Merlin was climbing up onto the dragon’s back. He looked natural, right at home there, and Arthur supposed that he probably was. Cautiously, Arthur took the hand that was held out to him, and climbed a little awkwardly up behind Merlin. “You’ll need to hold onto me,” Merlin told him. “Don’t let go.” Arthur had no intention of letting go of Merlin. Ever. He wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist, pressing his body up close and resting his chin on Merlin’s shoulder. “This is already feeling like the best way to travel,” Arthur breathed into Merlin’s ear. “Very cosy.” “Yeah, I can feel how cosy you’re getting. Don’t get any ideas.” “Too late!” Arthur snuggled closer, letting one hand slip inside Merlin’s heavy coat and start to explore, trying to find a way under his shirt. Kilgharrah gave a mighty roar, glared back at the pair of them, and then took off without any warning at all. If Merlin hadn’t grabbed hold of Arthur’s wandering hand, he thought he might have fallen off and been left behind. Arthur clung on grimly as they rapidly ascended, and decided he wouldn’t be trying anything further with Merlin until they were safely back down on the ground. Obviously the dragon didn’t approve of them enjoying the ride too much. The initial ascent was fast and breathtaking. The dragon sanctuary grew smaller beneath them, and he could clearly see the lights of the courtyard and the road beyond. Further in the distance were the dark shadows of the Mercian mountain ranges, vast and oppressive, a single road that cut through them provided the only light there. The cold evening air rushed past their faces, but Merlin was right about how warm the massive dragon was, and anyway it was a good excuse to keep his face close to the warmth of Merlin’s neck. “Okay?” Merlin asked as the dragon levelled out and started to head towards the mountains. “It’s amazing,” Arthur breathed. “I never thought it would be like this.” Merlin pulled away and turned to look back at him. Arthur knew his own delighted grin was probably equal to the one splitting Merlin’s face. “I knew you’d love it!” Arthur just nodded, still smiling. Merlin settled back down and Arthur drew him close again. He could feel the strength of the creature beneath him, and see the powerful wings beating steadily. And far below them the tiny road that would, he thought, eventually lead them home. --- The flight took several hours, and by the time the lights of Camelot came into view, impossibly bright against the night sky, and unmistakeable, Arthur was starting to ache from clinging on with his arms and legs for so long. He could tell Merlin felt the same from the way he was starting to fidget. “Keep still,” boomed Kilgharrah. “This sea of light blinds me, I need no further distractions.” He was staying high, Arthur noticed. They had flown low over the Mercian valleys and Arthur had enjoyed the view. But once they reached Camelot Kilgharrah had climbed higher, making them harder to spot. Arthur could imagine why. He had no wish to be shot down by his own people, protected route or not. The Eye, the Houses of Parliament, the Shard, the vast river running through the city… all of them were visible in the distance, looking like little toys. And as Kilgharrah finally began to descend, flying low over Hyde Park, Arthur could see cars and finally people all staring up at them and pointing. Kilgharrah sailed so low over the Wellington Arch that Arthur thought they might hit it, then they were past, and he could see Constitution Hill and the palace. They were over the walls, and down into the privacy of the gardens in moments. It hadn’t been the most subtle and inconspicuous of arrivals, but Arthur didn’t care. He waved enthusiastically at Gwaine, who was there with Gwen and Morgana, recording it all. “That was brilliant!” he yelled as he slid off the dragon’s back. “Amazing! You all have to try it. It was just…” He turned to watch Merlin slide down after him. “Amazing! Really, truly…” “Amazing,” boomed Kilgharrah. “Oh my God it can talk!” Gwaine gasped, and started taking more pictures. He stopped a moment later, seeing the dragon’s disapproving glare had been turned towards him. “ He ,” Arthur emphasised, glad he hadn’t made that particular faux pas, “is very old and wise and can speak many languages.” “Creep,” Merlin whispered. “He… oh.” Arthur didn’t need to look to see why Merlin’s suddenly sounded so apprehensive. Their respective fathers were striding across the lawns. Neither looked particularly pleased. “Balinor, get that thing out of here before it eats one of the corgis!” Arthur wouldn’t mind if Kilgharrah did, they were annoying, yappy little things that were always getting under his feet and had on several occasions alerted his father to just how very late and drunk he had arrived home. Balinor rolled his eyes, and just for a moment Arthur could see the family resemblance with his son. “He won’t touch your dogs.” He held out a hand in greeting to the dragon. “Thank you for bringing the boys safely home. Are you in need of food before your return?” “We have corgis,” Arthur whispered to Merlin, who couldn’t quite stifle a giggle. Uther looked at them both furiously, and Merlin straightened, immediately serious. “I will feed when I reach Mercia.” Kilgharrah bowed his head to King Balinor, then turned to look at Arthur. “Enjoy your destiny, young Pendragon,” he rumbled. “What was that?” Uther spluttered. “Was that a threat? Did that thing just threaten my son? Balinor, you agreed these creatures were to be kept under control!” There was no mistaking the contemptuous snort that Kilgharrah gave. The great dragon spread his wings and rose up into the night sky, evidently having had enough. “He’s magnificent,” Arthur breathed, watching him go. Uther looked less impressed. When Arthur turned to his father, he could see that he was about to pay for his exciting day and, probably more so, for his sudden enthusiasm for dragons. “Inside, Arthur.” Arthur’s shoulders slumped, the fun part of the day definitely was over. He followed his father back to the palace, Merlin at his side. --- “It was a parade, Arthur! Have you no idea how much those things cost? Roads were closed, diversion signs went up. And you vanished. We’ve had to close Black’s zoo down temporarily while there’s an investigation as to how they acquired that damned dragon! He’s threatening to sue!” “So am I,” Balinor put in quietly. “We have agreements. If he tries to make a fuss about this, he’ll regret it.” Uther, not used to being interrupted, even by fellow kings, glared at him then carried on. “What do you think it says to people when you can’t be bothered to show up? It’s not as if it’s difficult, sitting there in a car smiling and waving! You’ve managed it before now even when you’re hungover! In fact you usually manage it hungover! What were you thinking of?” “The dragon needed to be taken to a sanctuary quickly, and couldn’t go through the trauma of the flight without a dragonlord,” Merlin put in. “There were only two dragonlords in Camelot, and we could hardly pull my father out of the talks. So I had to do it and Arthur helped me.” “Very commendable,” Balinor agreed. “It was just an animal!” Uther sputtered. “It could have waited. It wasn’t dying!” “Actually they’re very intelligent…” Arthur began. “Silence! Don’t argue with me! I knew your behaviour yesterday was too good to be true. Morgana.” He looked to his daughter. “You’ll be accompanying Merlin for the rest of the tour. I hope you can show a little more common sense than your brother.” Morgana gave Arthur a brief, sympathetic look. “I don’t think Arthur did anything wrong…” “He rode a dragon through Camelot! People saw him! What kind of message does that send out?” Uther glared at Gwen who had just entered the room and was hovering in the doorway. “And what do you want? You’re lucky I don’t fire you for allowing this to happen! Did you organise this circus?” “Don’t blame Gwen,” Arthur put in, and was almost drowned out by Morgana and Merlin saying more or less the same thing. “She does a good job.” “Thank you,” Gwen walked forward, carefully not looking at Uther, and switched on the TV screen in the corner of the room. “I think you all need to see this before anyone does anything hasty.” It was a news broadcast from CBC1. There was footage from earlier in the day, at the zoo, showing Aithusa interspersed with footage of Merlin comforting the dragon and Arthur raging at Mordred. Arthur watched himself, detached as if it were a different person. He’d thought Gwen had done everything, but he appeared to be furiously ordering people around and had helped lift the dragon into the transport when it arrived. He winced, as he saw himself bellowing at the director of the zoo, seeing the man cringing before him. He would do it again in a heartbeat, but he knew his father was going to be furious. “You were brilliant,” Merlin whispered at his side. “Thank you.” “It’s all over the Mercian media. And ours too,” Gwen told them. “Arthur’s approval rating is going sky-high over there. It might not be what we had planned, but it’s done wonders for the talks. Nobody likes cruelty to animals.” “Also,” Monmouth put in quickly, “there's been a development. It appears that it may have been a setup. The dragon was acquired from a seller in Essetir who almost certainly acquired it illegally. We don’t know if the management at the zoo knew of this, but apparently Mordred Black hailed from Essetir originally, and has now vanished so it looks very likely. Obviously King Cenred has a great deal to lose if these talks succeed. We’re still investigating, but it would appear the intention was, with the Mercian press there, to cause an outrage and have public opinion in both countries turn against the peace talks. Thanks to Arthur, he’s failed quite spectacularly.” “Coming back home on the dragon was a masterstroke,” Gwen added. “Look.” There was a short piece of Gwaine’s footage showing Kilgharrah gliding down to the palace grounds, both his passengers clearly having enjoyed the ride. Arthur could see his arms wrapped tightly around Merlin’s waist, and noticed how he lingered after they landed, saw the way Merlin looked back over his shoulder with a huge, far too pleased with himself grin, and wondered how anyone could possibly not notice their obvious attraction to each other. Morgana looked across at him and raised an eyebrow. Well, he’d known she would miss nothing. The commentator was talking about friendship and other bullshit, and Arthur was happy to let as many people as possible continue to think that way. “A dragon,” Uther growled. “In the grounds of Buckingham Palace.” “It was certainly a lot quieter than using a helicopter,” Arthur told him. He was, after all, damned anyway. “More eco-friendly as well.” His father’s nostrils actually flared. It was, Arthur thought, a little like watching the dragon. “It was admirable,” King Balinor told him. “You must be very proud of your son.” Uther said nothing. Arthur could see a tiny little twitch starting just above his eyebrow. “Mercian TV want to interview both the princes,” Gwen put in quickly. “Perhaps, if we’re done here, Your Majesty, I could brief them both? It’s all excellent publicity. Cenred is probably tearing his hair out at how very wrong it’s all gone for him.” Uther gave a brief, curt nod. Arthur took his opportunity and escaped, though he had the feeling it might only be a temporary reprieve. --- “It could have gone far worse,” Merlin pointed out later as he walked with Arthur through the mostly deserted palace corridors. Gwen’s interview had turned out to be several interviews and had gone on for hours. By the time they were finished, Morgana had reported that Uther had retired to bed and that they were safe at least until the morning. No further mention had been made of Gwen losing her job, and apparently Uther had decided that although Morgana should accompany them to keep Arthur in line, Arthur would still be showing Merlin the sights of Camelot. “Well, your father seems to like me, anyway. That’s something.” Balinor had given his own interview, praising Arthur for his open-mindedness, and expressing great hope for the future peace between their countries. It was clear to all that what he wanted to add was that it was a refreshing change from Uther’s attitude. “Yep. Whether he’d like you as much if he knew you were planning to deflower me and breed little dragonlords from me is another matter,” Merlin said seriously. Arthur stopped and stared at him. “Deflower? What… you aren’t… you never …?” This was not part of the plan. He’d assumed someone else had to have got there first. Hadn’t Morgana said there had been reports a few years back of a boyfriend? “Do you get pregnant every time or something?” Merlin stared back at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh Arthur, you should see your face! No! Of course I’m not. Obviously I don’t shag everything that moves like you do…” “Not true. Just stories in the papers.” Arthur started to walk on again, moving closer to Merlin so that their shoulders brushed as they walked. “Gwaine said it was true.” “Gwaine probably made up half the stories.” Not entirely, and Gwaine had first-hand knowledge of Arthur’s preferences on more than one occasion, but Merlin didn’t need to know much about that. “If you’d slept with him he’d start making up the stories about you as well.” “Ah.” “Yes. So steer clear.” Merlin nodded, slipping his hand into Arthur’s and walking closely beside him so that if they ran into someone it wouldn’t be obvious. For a moment or two they walked on quietly. Arthur wanted nothing more than to push him into the nearest empty room, lock the door and shag him senseless. But there were cameras and master keys, and servants walking around and all sorts of other reasons why that was a bad idea. “I’d get lost in this place,” Merlin admitted. “I took three wrong turns on the way down to the car this morning.” “I’ve lived here most of my life,” Arthur admitted. The part of his life after his mother had died. She’d preferred Clarence House but he could barely remember that. “You get used to it. Look, my rooms are down here, but if you go up this staircase you’ll find yourself at the end of the corridor where your room is.” Merlin gazed at the staircase. “Can we go to my room? I’ll never find my way back here, I’m bound to be spotted wandering around lost and doing the walk of shame.” Arthur didn’t care which room they went to, as long as they got there soon. He led Merlin up the stairs, wincing at the way the floorboards creaked as they sneaked along the corridor, and slipped quietly into his room. Arthur rarely visited the guest quarters, and didn’t pause long to look around. Merlin locked the door behind them, bolted it, and then turned to look at Arthur, a nervous little half-smile playing about his lips. It was irresistible. Arthur kissed him, gently at first but Merlin wasn’t having that, pushing him up against the door and kissing him back harder, reaching up and under Arthur’s shirt, trying to undress him without breaking the kiss. Arthur pushed back, herding Merlin towards the bed, managing to kick off one shoe and half undo Merlin’s fly before they both stumbled over and fell on the bed, laughing and still trying to get each other’s clothes off. Suddenly Arthur groaned, realising. “Lube and condoms. You’re not going to have any in here.” “Course not,” Merlin reached up, peppering kisses down Arthur’s neck and chest as he pulled off his shirt and flung it aside. “I was going to visit a country that hates us with a royal prince who drowns defenceless soft toys. But I’m clean, and don’t you get tested too?” “Every week,” Arthur admitted. It was one of the things his father had insisted on when he’d realised Arthur was gay. No public displays, no scandals and no STDs. At least there’s no risk that you’ll get some gold-digging girl pregnant , Uther had reasoned somewhat bitterly. “But it’s not just that. Won’t you… you know, the baby thing that you can do?” Merlin looked at him almost in pity. “Baby thing?” “Well,” Arthur took the opportunity to finish undressing and climb between the sheets. “I don’t want you going back to Mercia with any extra souvenirs.” He picked up the little plush dragon that Merlin had left on his bedside table. “You’ve already got this.” Merlin laughed, and took the dragon away from him, setting it down well out of Arthur’s reach, then for good measure turning it away from them, which made Arthur laugh. “Don’t worry about that. I’m as safe as you are. Dragonlords only have children when they choose to. When I marry, there’ll be a ceremony. It’s quite rare, whatever your people have assumed, and I don’t even know what happens for sure as I’ve never seen one. I know it’s very secluded, very private and involves dragon magic. It’s to make sure there is never a dragonlord conceived that the dragons themselves won’t approve of. It’s why there’s such a strong bond. So you don’t have to worry about being careful.” He had finished undressing whilst he was talking, and climbed in beside Arthur. “You really, really don’t. In fact…” “Enough talking,” Arthur whispered, pulling him towards him, and silencing him with a kiss that Merlin met eagerly. “Enough.” --- The next few days were, Arthur thought later, the best of his life. He’d woken every morning with Merlin’s body cuddling him close, always gravitating towards him even if Arthur had got up in the night. Merlin claimed it was just the warmth of him, that the palace was cold and as a dragonlord he was used to fire. But Arthur would watch him sleep, and saw how he would frown if Arthur moved away, and then edge closer until he was snuggled up against Arthur again. Then his face would settle back into relaxed contentedness. It was a simple thing, but Arthur thought it was one of the sweetest things he’d ever seen. He could hardly bear the thought that soon the talks would be over, one way or another, and Merlin would return home. It could be a long time before they were together again. On the fifth day of the talks, they were lying in later than usual. There were no engagements until the afternoon, and Arthur had hung a change of clothes in the bathroom in case they were disturbed. Merlin had asked for breakfast in his room, and as enough for three or four people had been brought up, they sat in bed eating it, sharing toast and enjoying each other’s company. “Do you think the talks are going to succeed?” Merlin asked suddenly. Arthur slopped his tea in the saucer, cursed, and managed to spill some of it in the bed for good measure. “Oh, nice. Well?” “I don’t know. I hope so. I want to visit Aithusa and see how he’s getting on.” Merlin beamed at him. “I got a message from Percival. Too early to tell on the wing, but Aithusa’s on his feet and walking around, into everything. And they’ve had a new arrival, a blue from the north, really small and with a deformed wing. The two of them are getting friendly. See, happy ending. And that film crew have been back, they’re doing a documentary on Aithusa’s recovery. So you’ll get to see him.” He paused. “It would be better if you could come back with me, though. Perhaps one day.” Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “You know, we could marry and bind the two lands together forever,” he said as casually as he could. “When, you know, we’re both king. No peace conferences needed. Everything equal.” Merlin didn’t reply at once, but when Arthur found the courage to look at Merlin again, those blue eyes were gazing at him lovingly. “Really?” “Really. I know it’s only been a few days, but I feel like I’ve known you forever.” “Like we fit? Like we’re meant to be? I know. I feel it too.” “So, what do you say?” Arthur fingered the edge of the duvet nervously. “I mean… if you want to. I hate the thought of not waking up with you every morning, and I’m sick of sneaking around, of watching people push their eligible offspring at you wherever we go.” “You know I would, in a heartbeat,” Merlin told him. “But our fathers… well, your father really, because I think mine would come round, he likes you. Your father would never accept me.” Arthur knew it was true. But there had to be a way. There were only a couple of days left. “If the talks work, I could visit,” Arthur began. There was a thunderous rapping on the door. “Merlin!” “My father!” Merlin hissed. “Quick, hide in the bathroom.” He scrambled out of bed, pulled on the nearest pair of pants then helped Arthur pick up his clothes. “Hurry!” he hissed, then shouted to his father that he would be there in a moment. “Never mind!” Balinor replied. “Just throw your things in your case, we’re leaving right now! I’m done talking to that man.” Arthur and Merlin stared at each other in horror. “I’ll be back in two minutes. Be ready.” Merlin pulled his case out and started throwing things in. He looked every bit as miserable as Arthur felt. Reluctantly, Arthur helped him, silently emptying the closet while Merlin quickly got dressed. “We can call each other,” Merlin ventured. “Email. Skype, we can do that. It’s not like we’re that far away. Maybe we could meet up at the border sometimes?” “I don’t want just sometimes,” Arthur told him, packing up a small tablet computer and cushioning it with socks. “This isn’t fair.” “Life isn’t fair, Arthur. Get dressed, you can come and see me off.” The sound of Balinor stomping back down the corridor was clearly audible. Arthur scrambled into the crumpled clothes that had been lying on the floor most of the night. Merlin winced and Arthur just shrugged. There was no time to go and get the fresh set. “Merlin!” Merlin ran over and opened the door, and his father stormed in. “That man is a narrow-minded, egocentric, bigoted…” he paused, seeing Arthur. “Ah. Arthur.” He looked down at the creased trousers and crumpled shirt that Arthur was wearing. “Arthur came along to say goodbye,” Merlin put in. “You know we’ve become friends.” “Just pulled on whatever I had to hand when Merlin rang,” Arthur confirmed. “And locked the door after you came in?” Balinor queried. “Your father lies, Arthur. You seem to be a better man, generally. So try not to fall into the same habit. Merlin, are you ready?” Merlin gazed desperately across at Arthur. Arthur wanted to grab hold of him and never let him go, tell Balinor to leave by himself. But instead he picked up Merlin’s case, and handed it to him silently. “Thank you,” Merlin whispered. “I’ll call you when I’m home.” Arthur nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “I’ll visit Aithusa and send you some pictures.” “Merlin, come on,” Balinor snapped. “Arthur,” he held out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure. You’ll be a far better king than your father. And you would be welcome in Mercia,” he glanced at his son. “For any reason.” Merlin looked as if he were going to cry as he followed his father out, though if he did it was after they were airborne because none of the photos Gwaine showed Arthur later had Merlin crying. It was as Arthur had expected before Merlin arrived. It seemed Arthur had a real knack for making him leave in tears. Picking up the remainder of his clothes, and a few other pieces that Merlin had left behind, Arthur looked back at the room one last time. Soon it would be cleaned and aired, and there would be no trace of either of them. A flash of bright green caught his eye. Merlin’s dragon had fallen on the floor and been missed when they’d hurriedly packed. Arthur picked it up, and held it close. --- “So the Mercian visit was a complete disaster?” It had been over a month since Merlin left, but the news was still all about the failed peace talks. Arthur was only half-listening to the broadcast. It was on in the background, that awful Nimueh Lake was interviewing his father’s chief Mercian advisor, Professor Gaius. Gaius was secretly one of Arthur’s favourites out of all his father’s advisors. In fact, he was probably the only one that Arthur actually liked. It was the way that he never actually disagreed with Uther as such, just looked at him with that amazing eyebrow climbing higher and higher up his face until, often as not, Uther reconsidered what he said. He was probably the only one who never seemed to be afraid of Uther, and that was something to be admired in itself. “Oh hardly,” Gaius protested. He didn’t like Nimueh, Arthur knew. He wondered how she had persuaded Gaius to appear on the show. “Things could have gone better, but we are talking about two very strong and powerful kings from very different backgrounds, very different countries. These were initial talks. You forget that they lasted five days. Last time, the talks were finished before they’d been here a day. Both countries want peace. This was a very positive step.” It was quite an optimistic attitude. Arthur smiled fondly as he saw that the studio had put a picture of himself and Merlin on either side of their fathers on the screen behind Gaius. It had been taken on the third day, and Merlin was looking relaxed and happy, glowing even. So did Arthur, for that matter. “But King Balinor left in a fury, did he not? He stormed out of the palace and vowed never to return.” There was a quick piece of footage showing Balinor striding towards a waiting helicopter, Merlin hurrying along behind him, head down. They hadn’t even waited for Kilgharrah to collect them. “Of course he did. As I said, King Balinor is a strong-minded individual, as is King Uther. This will take time.” “But you believe it will happen, that we will have an alliance with Mercia eventually?” “Without question. Think of the future. While the talks didn’t go as well as we might wish, there was the tour by the princes. That went far better than anybody had hoped and was a huge success.” The picture cut away to footage of Arthur and Merlin walking along together, Merlin laughing at something Arthur had said. Then it focussed on them coming out of the theatre together, Merlin clutching that stupid dragon toy happily. There were a number of other similar clips, and then it moved to the zoo. “This part didn’t go as well,” Nimueh said, talking over the footage. “It went very well. The two young men who will one day rule both kingdoms worked together to prevent things escalating, and ensured that the dragon went home. I believe there has been some very positive reporting in Mercia of Arthur’s role in freeing the beast. There’s even talk over there of setting up a reciprocal visit, with Arthur touring key sites in Mercia.” Arthur couldn’t imagine his father agreeing to that for a moment, but he let himself daydream about the idea for a few moments. There was some footage of the two of them doing a walkabout, Merlin bending over to talk to a little girl. Arthur felt his heart wrench at the sight. He really, really missed Merlin. “It’s all a very good omen for the future,” Gaius was saying. “Excellent, thank you Professor Gaius.” Nimueh smiled brightly at the camera. “All very different from our last report on Prince Arthur.” The screen behind her filled with a picture of Arthur falling on his face outside a nightclub. Off-camera, the microphone managed to pick up Gaius’ exclamation of irritation and disgust. “Now, after the break we’ve got our regular cookery slot with…” Arthur turned the television off before it numbed his brain. Cookery slots had never appealed to him much, and he’d been feeling a bit queasy that morning anyway. Strange, when he’d spent most of the previous evening on Skype with Merlin and hadn’t drunk anything. Still, Gaius thinking that he and Merlin boded well for the future stayed with him. He glanced over at his computer and wondered if Merlin was online yet. --- The one good thing about the end of the Mercian visit was that Arthur didn’t have to suffer breakfast with his father every day. In fact, it was barely more than once a week. He was largely left to his own devices first thing, and had taken to eating in his rooms whenever possible. Sometimes he just didn’t feel like eating, and it was easier to hide that if he was alone. Also it was the only part of the day he got to himself, a time when he could call Merlin. He cherished it. “Are you putting on weight?” Uther regarded him critically (was there ever any other way?) over the top of his newspaper. Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was true that his tailor had taken out his trousers for the official function last week, and that there were few things in his wardrobe that didn’t feel a little snug. But it had been a busy month, what with all the fallout from the treaty discussions and everything, there had been a lot of official dinners and not much time to visit the gym. He was probably comfort eating. It was pretty miserable having found someone he could actually envisage spending the rest of his life with and then having them wrenched away from him like that. “I’ll get rid of it.” “Good. Looks bad in the papers, as if we’re greedy.” Arthur imagined Merlin’s response to that, and put down the slice of toast he’d been about to help himself to. Thinking about it, he didn’t feel particularly hungry anyway at the moment. It was probably a reaction to the sickness bug he seemed to have picked up and which didn’t seem to want to go away. Though really he thought he should be losing weight rather than putting it on because of that. Morgana gazed at him thoughtfully across the breakfast table. “You know, Arthur, you’re looking a little pale, and you’ve not been well recently. Perhaps you should have a doctor look at you?” Uther snorted disparagingly. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s as strong as an ox. Didn’t you see him last week taking part in that tug-of-war contest at that ridiculous country fete?” “I saw him worn out that evening, yes,” Morgana mused. “Still, you know best.” Her tone suggested quite the opposite and Arthur wasn’t surprised when she followed him out and walked behind him all the way to his rooms. There was no chance of stopping her from following him in, so he didn’t bother trying. “You look terrible, Arthur. What’s the matter with you? And don’t say nothing.” “It is nothing. I’ve had a bug, nothing to worry about.” He took a seat, not bothering to offer her one because there was no need. She would just take one anyway. Sure enough, she sat down and fixed him with that penetrating gaze she had. “I am worried. Have you seen a doctor? A proper doctor, not just the check-ups with the nurse.” Arthur hadn’t even been bothering with the check-ups. There wasn’t any point, he wasn’t sleeping with anyone, not for months, not since Merlin left. He told Morgana as much. “I don’t need a doctor, Morgana. It’s just a bug.” “But you’re putting on weight, and being sick.” She pursed her lips together thoughtfully. “That’s contradictory, you know?” “I’ve stopped being sick, that was just the virus.” She reached into her pocket, and pulled out her phone. “I don’t agree. I’m calling someone.” “Morgana!” It was Professor Gaius, of all people, that she called. He was a medical doctor, after a fashion. But he’d studied in Mercia, and his knowledge had to be years out of date. Arthur liked the man, but had no wish to submit to any sort of examination from him. “Absolutely not,” he insisted when she turned the phone off. But it was hopeless to disagree with her, like trying to hold back the tide. And so he found himself sitting in his own bedroom, with Gaius insisting on listening to his stomach. Worse, whatever Gaius found left him with a faintly horrified look on his face and insisting that Arthur have a scan. He wouldn’t say why. It was, frankly, quite frightening. The scan was booked in for the afternoon. Left alone, with nothing to do but think and worry, Arthur called Merlin. --- Merlin loved modern technology. He particularly loved Skype, which allowed him to sit and chat with Arthur for long periods of time each day. He could see Arthur’s face gazing back at him, see what he was wearing that day (or sometimes not wearing, though they hadn’t done that for a few weeks because Arthur often wasn’t feeling too good), hear his voice and see the little toy dragon sitting there next to the screen, because Arthur claimed it was waiting for him to come back and collect it. Arthur didn’t look well. He hadn’t looked well for a while, but he looked pale and tired, and his smile wasn’t as bright as usual when he appeared on the screen in front of Merlin. It was horrible, being so far away and unable to do anything to help. He’d many times urged Arthur to visit a doctor, but now that he had, and the doctor (or antiquated old quack as Arthur referred to him, not entirely fondly) appeared to have found something. Arthur’s stomach was swelling up, yet he wasn’t eating as much as usual, was feeling sick and tired and rundown. He had stomach cramps sometimes too, although he swore they were only very mild. Merlin could see the fear in Arthur’s eyes and knew what he wasn’t saying, the fear that it could be something terrible, something fatal even. Merlin had tried to reassure him, but he was terrified himself. Losing Arthur didn’t bear thinking about. They talked for over an hour, only stopping when Morgana came back to Arthur’s rooms to sit with her brother. She’d looked concerned as well, and hadn’t greeted Merlin as brightly as she usually did. He thought he would call her later, find out if there was anything more, if there were things Arthur wasn’t telling him. Perhaps she could even find a way that he could visit. Merlin shut down his laptop after the Skype session, still worried. He sat there for a moment, thinking about what Arthur had said, trying to think of other possibilities. If he wasn’t horribly ill, what were the other possibilities? Merlin wanted something to cling onto, some hope. Perhaps it was just an infection, and he needed antibiotics or something. Or, it almost sounded as if Arthur was pregnant… but it couldn’t be. That wasn’t possible. Arthur wasn’t a dragonlord, he wasn’t even Mercian, and even if he was there was the whole dragon ceremony to go through… The dragon ceremony, which involved the dragon conjuring some form of mysterious magic over the host. How would they do that? He thought of Arthur, standing in front of Kilgharrah, and that awful moment when he’d thought the dragon was going to incinerate him. Kilgharrah hadn’t, but Merlin wondered what he might have done to Arthur instead. With more than a little trepidation, Merlin got up and went to find his parents. --- Arthur had never been hospitalised in his life. He didn’t like it, didn’t like the smell, didn’t like the way people kept coming in and out of his room, didn’t like the way Morgana insisted on sitting there holding his hand as if he were dying or something. No, there was nothing to like about it. “I want to go home,” he grumbled petulantly. “I’m starving.” They wouldn’t give him any food until the scan results came back. Arthur had been in the hospital bed for hours, being poked and prodded and tested. His stomach growled loudly in support of his words. “Just a little bit longer,” Morgana assured him. “Don’t worry, Arthur. It’ll be okay.” He thought he liked her better when she was being mean to him. --- Queen Hunith was up in her office when Merlin found her. He thought to try his mother first, because when on form Balinor could rival Uther Pendragon for his ability to shout. And if Merlin’s wildly improbable theory was correct, both kings were going to put that rivalry to the test. But it was a ridiculous theory. He went in and stood beside her desk. “Mother, can I ask you something?” “Very formal, Merlin. Sit down.” Hunith put down her pen and swung round to face him. “What is it?” “Well, I wanted to ask you about your wedding.” “It was beautiful. You’ve seen it many times.” Merlin nodded. “It was the dragon ceremony afterwards that I was curious about. Is there footage of that anywhere?” “Ah. No. Kilgharrah would never allow that. I don’t think your father would either. You won’t want that filmed when it’s your time, will you? It’s nice to keep some things private.” Merlin wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question, in case it involved a scarring retelling of his parents’ sex lives that he might need counselling to erase from his brain. “But… what exactly happened? What does the dragon do?” Hunith’s smile softened further at the recollection. “Oh, well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. It was very beautiful. We went out together, just the two of us, to meet Kilgharrah. We’d just married, but with there being so few dragonlords, your father wanted an heir right away. So we knelt before Kilgharrah and asked for his blessing. And he blessed your father, and that was it, we went back to the wedding celebrations and I’m sure I don’t need to explain that part any further! And then nine rather stressful months later, because your father did not enjoy being pregnant one little bit, you were born.” Merlin was glad he’d missed that time. The thought of his rather acerbic father in such a condition was horrific. But his mother hadn’t quite answered his question. “So, this blessing… does the dragon speak it?” “Oh no,” Hunith smiled. “It was lovely. He breathed a sort of cold fire over your father. It glowed silver, just for a few moments. It was so pretty. And look, it gave us you.” She reached out and touched his cheek fondly. “Is that what you wanted to know? Oh Merlin, you look quite shocked, is something wrong?” “Maybe nothing,” Merlin said, hoping that was true. “It would only work on dragonlords, or those with Mercian blood, wouldn’t it?” “Of course. Most Mercians have dragonlord blood in them somewhere.” “The Pendragons don’t though, they’re not Mercian. So if… say Uther was king of Mercia, he wouldn’t be able to receive the dragon’s blessing?” Hunith laughed. “I don’t think so, for many reasons. He would probably be the last person in the world who might receive it. Kilgharrah would blast him where he stands if your father allowed it. And of course there probably isn’t a drop of Mercian blood running through his veins, so no, he wouldn’t be able to. What a strange question!” Her eyes were twinkling, and he supposed she had a very good idea exactly what he was really asking, though probably not why. His father had interpreted Arthur’s dishevelled appearance in Merlin’s bedroom on that last morning quite correctly, and both his parents would gently tease every now and then, thinking it only a crush or a dalliance. This was confirmed a moment later when she added, “Arthur, though, he’d be another matter. His mother was half-Mercian, I believe… Oh goodness, Merlin! Your face! Whatever is the matter?” --- Arthur stared at the fuzzy, black and white scan in front of him. He had been staring at it for several minutes. It was a mistake, of course. This wasn’t possible. He’d told Gaius as much, and had then had a long explanation about family on his mother’s side and how it was indeed quite possible, if a little unusual. “Arthur, please say something,” Morgana urged. He looked up at her, still too stunned to speak, then back down at the picture in his hands. “He seems perfectly healthy,” Gaius continued. “He? It’s a boy?” Morgana peered at the picture. “Isn’t that the umbilical cord?” An umbilical cord. Arthur stared at it. Inside him. Growing. It couldn’t be true. “This is a joke, yes?” He looked up at Gaius hopefully. “It’s not funny.” Gaius raised an eyebrow at him. “Considering what we originally thought this might be, I think I would take the pregnancy and be happy about it. I won’t ask how this came about, because I’m sure we are all under no illusions who the other parent is. But we will need to think very carefully how we break this to your father. Perhaps you should call Merlin, tell him what’s happened. You shouldn’t have to face this by yourself.” Arthur looked down at the picture again, then at his faintly swollen stomach. He wasn’t going to be facing anything by himself by the looks of things, not for a long, long time. At least he’d get to see Merlin again. That would be good. He could strangle him… --- In the end, the peace talks went very well. King Uther and King Balinor shouted and yelled at one another for a very long time, though that was only to be expected. The shouting generally involved accusations of whose son was more to blame, and the evilness of dragons and sorcery, and general rages about unnatural practices. Arthur missed all that, because Gaius had kindly decided to declare him delicate and unfit for any sort of stressful situation, which suited Arthur just fine. Merlin’s mother was a kindly woman who insisted on looking after him and making him soup and hot tea, and generally fussed around him, and Merlin was sitting there all through it holding his hand and looking horribly guilty. Arthur sort of liked the guilty look. Merlin, he supposed, probably deserved it. He might not have meant to do it, but Arthur’s condition was entirely Merlin’s fault. Merlin’s and that wretched dragon. It was a situation Arthur intended milking for many years to come. Uther, reluctantly, agreed in the end that there was only one course of action. A wedding, quick and quiet, and a suitably vague press release that, whilst not actually saying that Merlin was the one expecting the child, heavily hinting that this was the case. Arthur was to go to Mercia and stay out of the public eye until the child was born, then there would be a huge and very public wedding next year with a ceremony in both countries. Uther wasn’t too bothered about the huge wedding, but he made it very clear that he would not budge on any of the other points. Arthur found that he didn’t care too much. When he packed his bags and left with Merlin, it was the last time he would call the city of Camelot his primary home. Instead, he and Merlin set up a new home, together, on the border between the two countries. They didn’t look back with any regrets. Later, Arthur found he didn’t want to think back too much on the pregnancy. It was uncomfortable and the eventual caesarean had left a faint scar. But he was happy and contented with his family, and the little dark-haired boy who looked so much like Arthur’s mother was worth it, even if he did go through a phase where he kept waking up every hour, every night, and then months later was toddling around, getting into everything, always clutching that wretched little dragon. At least there were no rival princes to take it away and throw it into fountains, Arthur thought fondly. He stood in the nursery, watching as Merlin tucked in their little boy and laughingly refused the demands for a second bedtime story. They both kissed their son goodnight, then stood watching for a few moments as the little boy who would one day be king of all Albion cuddled up to his favourite toy, before turning out the light and leaving him to settle into sleep. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin uses magic to court Arthur. It takes awhile for Arthur to realize just how impressive Merlin's magic is. Notes This is for the wonderfully patient and generous pt_tucker, based on their prompt idea of a power reveal. See the end of the work for more notes Introductions Merlin decided to tell Arthur about his magic the same day he decided to court him. Not seduce. Court. Though he hadn’t served Arthur that long compared to the other servants in the castle, he had seen enough of who Arthur was, after their initial antagonism at being forced together faded away, to spark his interest. That initial spark, ignited during adrenaline and adventure, did not fizzle out as he had hoped and proved to be more profound and enduring than Merlin wanted to acknowledge. There were so many complications that came with royalty itself, throw in Merlin’s magic and any kind of relationship was just bound to be a disaster. But the comforting warmth that encased his heart every time he thought of Arthur would not be denied. Even in his short time at court, Merlin had seen the kind of people that flocked around the prince, trying to tempt him. Noble and common alike, they flattered, beguiled, and contrived, always in an attempt to seduce the prince into their clutches—but they never wanted Arthur. The only thing those malicious opportunists who tried to con their way into Arthur’s bed saw was his title, his wealth, and the favours they could get from him. They never saw the Arthur who was a hopeless—and helpless—romantic or the Arthur who had a biting sense of humour. They didn’t know that Arthur rarely showed his softer side, so in those small moments when he did let down his guard, you knew you were someone important, even if he sometimes said the opposite. All they cared about was what the prince could give to them; they didn’t care that Arthur was just and risked his life, not just for the nobility, not just for the people of Camelot, but for anyone who turned to him for help. And they never saw the man who desperately wanted a hug. Unlike all those others, Merlin didn’t want trinkets, power, or a crown. He didn’t just want into Arthur’s bed either, which possibly could have been managed and ignored. Though the physical appeal was undeniable and had been from the start—Arthur was very attractive with his golden hair and muscular body—that alone wouldn’t have compelled Merlin to think the unthinkable and try to court a prince. What he wanted was to be in Arthur’s heart. In the almost year that he had been working as the prince’s manservant, Arthur had forced Merlin to reassess the decidedly negative first impression he had left on Merlin with acts of bravery, caring, and loyalty. It was so unusual for a prince to trust and be loyal to a servant, and that had Merlin slowly discovering another side to Arthur, one that actually believed in honour and love. Arthur was not easy, he wasn’t always kind, but Merlin’s own natural sassiness challenged Arthur’s moods and made him Arthur’s equal. They complemented each other—and Merlin could just hear Kilgharrah laughing at him for that thought—and the second Merlin acknowledged that, at his heart, Arthur was a good man behind the privilege and title, he was lost. Merlin had made his decision but he knew he couldn’t approach Arthur like everyone else, all those conniving people who tried to use trickery to get what they wanted from Arthur. Merlin didn’t want a quick fuck, anyway; he wanted a partnership, as presumptuous as that was for a servant to think about a prince. That meant honesty and courting. And honestly, Arthur deserved courting. He deserved to know that Merlin was serious, that Merlin had thought this through, and, since no one ever dared to court a prince, only seeking fleeting connections, Arthur deserved to be treated like a worthy potential partner. Merlin wanted Arthur to know that his interest wasn’t some ploy, that it was genuine and sincere. However, since he wouldn’t be able to court Arthur properly if he were executed, he would have to find the perfect way to tell Arthur about his magic—one that inspired confidence and trust. Not something easily accomplished, given Arthur’s upbringing. Merlin was tempted to just say the words one evening after Arthur was done with his meal. He imagined them sitting before the crackling fire as the hour drew later and later, their bodies slowly moving closer together as Merlin explained his magic, stressing how much it had been used to help Arthur and the people of Camelot. He imagined Arthur looking at him with understanding and respect as he finally saw the part of Merlin that he kept so carefully hidden, his blue eyes shining, drawing Merlin in, until their words melted to kisses, Arthur’s sword-calloused hands scraping along Merlin’s neck… Merlin wished it would be as simple as that but he knew that Arthur was more a man of action than words. Just saying that he used his magic to help, not to hurt, wouldn’t be enough to convince Arthur. He had to demonstrate it somehow whilst Arthur was actually looking and couldn’t dismiss it as “luck.” And it couldn’t look like an accident, either. Merlin needed Arthur to know he was sharing this side of himself on purpose. It took a week of agonizing, imagining things going right, dreading how it could all go terribly wrong, before Merlin decided on a plan. Each day in that week, Merlin woke with a surge of energy, knowing that he was ready to tell Arthur, that he had to tell Arthur, but that energy quickly dissipated under the weight of actually figuring out how to tell him and so Merlin would put it off to the next day. By the end of the week, Merlin was exhausted, the constant strain of his decision hanging over him and wearing him down. It was as he was drifting off to sleep one night, feeling almost like he was floating though he was cushioned comfortably upon his mattress, that an idea struck him. It took some practicing to get the spells right, Gaius covering for Merlin’s absences as he worked. Arthur never commented on Merlin’s disappearances—though he was developing a strange habit of making loud clanging noises with whatever metal happened to be nearby whenever Merlin entered a room—and Merlin never offered any explanation. Much sooner than Merlin had anticipated, he had mastered the spells, which meant it was time to go to Arthur. Except, he didn’t. He put it off for the next day, then the day after that, then the day after that. He had thought learning the spells would take longer, he reasoned, he was just keeping to his original schedule. Merlin didn’t want to admit that he was scared and it wasn’t really about the magic. Revealing his magic was only step one, the next part was courting Arthur, alerting Arthur to his feelings, his interest. What if Arthur didn’t reciprocate? What if Merlin’s attentions made Arthur feel uncomfortable? What if Merlin ruined everything they already had by trying for something more? Merlin was risking more than just his life. A week went by, then another, and, though Merlin felt like his whole body became paralyzed every time he even thought of enacting his plan, he knew he couldn’t delay any longer— he couldn’t let a whole month go by with Arthur none the wiser. He knew, he just knew, that if he kept putting off this beginning step, he would suddenly find that years had passed and he had missed his chance, an outcome he would regret for the rest of his life. Merlin might be, possibly, maybe, a little scared of putting himself and his heart in a vulnerable position, opening himself up to Arthur’s derision and rejection, but the idea of letting the moment pass by completely scared him even more. This was going to be a big step; no matter how Arthur reacted, it would lead to a big change. It could bring him unending happiness but it could also prove to be a devastating risk. Arthur , Merlin thought with renewed resolve, is worth it . Merlin woke up that morning frightfully early after a very restless night, his stomach churning in a strange mixture of anticipation and fear. Fittingly, given his plan of action, his stomach felt like it was swooping around inside of him and Merlin might actually wind up having to postpone again because he was going to be sick. Despite waking up much earlier than usual, the morning flew by. It felt like Merlin had only blinked an eye and suddenly it was time to go down to the kitchen to retrieve Arthur’s breakfast. Another blink and he was in front of the door to Arthur’s bedchamber. One last blink along with a large, fortifying breath, and there was Arthur, the red of his sheets complementing the tan of his half-bared body exceedingly well. Merlin set about his morning tasks. Falling into the routine of opening the curtains, pulling out clothes for the day, and just generally puttering around, being as loud as possible so as to wake the prince who was always nearly comatose in the morning, soothed his jangling nerves and somersaulting stomach. If he just focused on the present task, he wouldn’t have to worry about how the rest of the day would go. He steadfastly did not think about how momentous this day might prove to be as he helped Arthur change, he forced his mind to focus only on the moment as Arthur ate his breakfast, and he ignored the increased shaking of his hands as the blank haze of sleep slowly left Arthur, his eyes becoming more focused as he slowly came properly awake. “Morning,” Arthur yawned as Merlin made to take away his empty breakfast tray. Merlin stopped, the utensils clattering on the tray slightly as he tried to calm his suddenly pounding heart. If Arthur was talking, that meant he was awake enough to comprehend the meaning of Merlin’s words, which meant it was time to put his plan into action. He wasn’t ready! How was he going to start again? With a big gulp, Merlin turned back to Arthur, who was still sitting in his chair at the table, not looking at all enthused about starting the day. Merlin knew perfectly well that today Arthur was set to attend council meetings with the king instead of training with the knights, so he wasn’t surprised by Arthur’s forlorn demeanour. In fact, he had counted on it. Trying to sound as casual as possible, Merlin said, “You know, Arthur,” Merlin paused as Arthur brought up his gaze to meet Merlin’s, causing Merlin to swallow several times before he felt like he could continue with the level of nonchalance he was striving for as he offered, “You look like you might benefit from some fresh air, maybe a nice walk?” Arthur leaned back in his chair with a frown, surveying Merlin critically as he asked darkly, “Is that so?” “Yes,” Merlin said with one too many nods, noting Arthur seemed to already be in a bad mood but, now that he had started, he couldn’t imagine turning back. Rallying his nerve under Arthur’s direct stare, Merlin suggested as if the thought had just occurred to him, hoping his words didn’t sound like he had been practicing them for over two weeks now, “Maybe we should go somewhere, maybe we should, we could go somewhere away from the stress of the castle?” “So, you’re saying I should leave the castle,” Arthur said in an exaggeratedly thoughtful tone and Merlin knew this wasn’t going to go his way. “And where will you be as I take this ‘nice walk’? The tavern, maybe?” Arthur asked innocently but Merlin heard the edge of steel in his voice. “No,” Merlin said long and low, confused by the suggestion. “I thought, well, I actually thought,” Merlin stammered, thrown off by Arthur’s cold stare, “I was thinking we would both go.” Arthur visibly relaxed at that and he sounded much less angry when he asked, “To the tavern?” “No!” Merlin nearly shouted before checking himself. What was Arthur’s obsession with the tavern? “To the waterfall.” “What waterfall?” Arthur asked and Merlin nearly groaned. He had had everything planned out and it was all falling apart. How had everything gotten so mixed up? Taking a deep breath, Merlin started over. “I was actually thinking that both of us could go see this amazing waterfall I found. I think you could benefit from it, freshen you up,” Merlin said in a deliberately teasing voice, hoping that Arthur would take the bait and they could get the day back on track. Arthur paused before answering, scrutinizing Merlin from head to toe and Merlin knew he failed at stopping himself from fidgeting but then Arthur smiled, all ill-humour from moments ago dissolving. “Are you saying I smell, Mer lin?” Arthur asked dangerously and at that particular tone, Merlin smiled from ear to ear in relief and then gave an exaggerated sniff. “I wasn’t going to say anything, sire, but you do spend most of your day in sweaty armour.” “I do not stink,” Arthur said in outrage and Merlin felt victorious as he saw Arthur’s cross expression, knowing from his antics that Arthur was considering it. “Not after we visit the waterfall,” Merlin said jauntily, “Of course you won’t.” Merlin was already moving away as he anticipated Arthur’s response, easily dodging the hurtled candlestick holder that came his way. Merlin was halfway down the corridor when he heard his name imperiously hollered. He turned to see Arthur standing in the doorway to his bedchamber. When he saw he had Merlin’s attention, Arthur gave a stiff nod and said, “Be ready in ten minutes” before disappearing back into his rooms. Merlin hurried down the rest of the way to the kitchen with a relieved sigh, working valiantly to not obsess over what would come next. Arthur threw back his head, soaking in the random rays of warm sunlight that occasionally broke through the canopy of trees above them as he and Merlin rode through the forest surrounding Camelot. The day was clear and bright, the kind of day that always beckoned Arthur to spend its entirety out of doors, enticing him with the joyful song of the birds and the wide expanse of sky. Usually, he could accept the sun’s warm invitation by training with his knights but all he had had to look forward to that day had been council meetings and enclosed walls. He had to admit, it was one of Merlin’s rare good ideas to make his excuses to his father and sneak out to the forest. Though he found Merlin’s stated motivation suspect; his reasoning sounded very flimsy. At first, Arthur had thought Merlin was trying to ditch him again. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Merlin had been acting a bit off, a bit clumsier, a bit more distracted than usual, and spending way too much time at the tavern. When he realized Merlin was intending for them to go off together, Arthur thought there was a chance Merlin might have finally decided to confide in him. Something was clearly bothering him and Arthur suspected he knew what it was. But he wasn’t going to press. It was a sensitive subject, after all. Given his suspicions, Arthur wasn’t at all surprised that Merlin wasn’t his usual, chatty self and Arthur found himself loathe to break the tenuous silence as they rode deeper into the forest. Instead, he focused on the sun above him, the trees around him, and the sedate clop of the horses’ hooves as they picked their way through the underbrush. It was a pleasant ride and Arthur decided to enjoy it despite his serious doubts about the existence of Merlin’s “waterfall.” As if he needed a waterfall to freshen up! And he knew for a fact he didn’t stink, which a very quick check as Merlin was delivering his dishes to the kitchen had confirmed. It was clear, Merlin just wanted a break from the castle and it wasn’t hard for Arthur to piece together why. Who was Arthur to deny a broken-hearted Merlin? He actually felt a little honoured that Merlin would turn to him to help cheer him up. Why Guinevere would reject Merlin’s advances, Arthur had no idea, but he wasn’t entirely displeased with how things had turned out. His only complaint was that, in wallowing in his misery, Merlin had been absenting himself from Arthur’s side and Arthur needed him around. He was the only one who made endless meetings bearable, his eyes upon Arthur acted as a constant challenge on the training field, and, God help him, his constant prattle had the unfortunate tendency to soothe Arthur and make him feel better. All things considered, though, this was the preferable outcome than Guinevere accepting Merlin. Arthur could only imagine the kind of nightmare that would be. Merlin was completely hopeless and sure to bungle the courtship to a spectacular degree, which would hurt Guinevere and enrage Morgana, and Arthur did not need a vengeful Morgana coming after him and his hapless manservant. No, it was best for everyone involved that things had not progressed any further than they already had. When Merlin finally indicated that they should stop, Arthur was not at all surprised that they were in an isolated clearing with no waterfall in sight. Merlin truly was an abysmal liar; he couldn’t hide anything from Arthur. Feeling charitable due to Merlin’s heartache, Arthur didn’t make any comment about the lack of any kind of water, let alone cascading water, as they dismounted from their horses. The instant his feet touched the ground, Merlin started to pace, completely ignoring Arthur and the horses that still needed attending to. Deciding to let Merlin sort through his feelings on his own, Arthur set about doing Merlin’s job making sure the horses were comfortable as Merlin acted like he wanted to pull his own hair out, his body nearly vibrating as he paced. Arthur shook his head sadly as he started towards Merlin. Honestly, such a simple confession wasn’t worth all of this. As he drew near, Arthur heard Merlin muttering as he wrapped his arms around himself, hands cupping his shoulders like he was giving himself a hug. “I’m just going to, just going to tell him. Yes.” “It’s okay, Merlin,” Arthur said compassionately, not liking just how nervous Merlin sounded. “I already know.” “What?!” Merlin strangled out, spinning around and freezing, like he had just found himself caught in Arthur’s crosshairs. “Whe-why- HOW ?” Merlin asked bewilderedly, looking slightly dazed and completely mad with his eyes boggling like that. “It’s not like you hid it very well,” Arthur said reasonably, keeping his tone light and slightly teasing, hoping it would reassure Merlin and get him over whatever was causing this panic. It produced the exact opposite effect, however, as Merlin suddenly appeared distraught and maybe even scared. What had happened between him and Guinevere? “Look,” Arthur said seriously, punching Merlin lightly on the shoulder which he didn’t need to wince so dramatically at, Arthur was just trying to cheer him up here, “I know it hurts now but don’t worry. Guinevere is undoubtedly very pretty and unendingly kind and, yes, you would have been very lucky to have fallen into her good graces, but there are other women out there. A whole castle’s worth, a whole city’s worth,” Arthur felt a frown pull at his lips at that statement but Merlin wasn’t looking at all comforted by his words, so he pushed through whatever had caused his own momentary displeasure to focus on Merlin, “And, despite the unfortunate ears, you’re not completely terrible to look at. Your eyes, for example…The point is,” Arthur said brusquely, “Your heart will mend and though Guinevere could not return your regard, someone else is bound it.” Arthur gave a firm nod and went to give Merlin’s shoulder another punch but stopped himself this time, taking in the stiff way Merlin was holding himself. “What I’m trying to say is…don’t give up?” Arthur finished hesitantly as slowly, Merlin’s confused pinch turned into a very peculiar expression, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or throw up. “What’re you talking about?” Merlin asked surprisingly calmly, given his face. Arthur felt his frown deepen as he took in Merlin’s question, said like a man who genuinely had no idea what was going on and not like one who was trying to recover from his secret being exposed. “You and Guinevere,” Arthur answered slowly, “Her rejecting you.” “Gwen didn’t reject me,” Merlin said and Arthur swore his heart stopped beating. “I mean,” Merlin sputtered, “There’s nothing to reject. I never, I didn’t, I don’t…Gwen’s in love with Lancelot!” Merlin shouted and then he was pacing once more, thrusting his hands through his hair which gave him a very wild look as the hair stuck out in every direction. Arthur took a step back, thinking Merlin needed some space and definitely needing some of his own after this embarrassing debacle, though he did catch Merlin’s morose, “Why waste time making a plan if he’s just going to ruin it at every opportunity” before he had completely moved away. Several minutes later, a heavy sigh announced Merlin’s approach to where Arthur was lying on the grass, indulging in a rare moment of stillness. “I have something to tell you,” Merlin said stoutly, “And it has nothing to do with the tavern or with Gwen or anything like that.” Arthur rose at Merlin’s words so that they were facing each other as he replied, “Alright, so why don’t you tell me what it is about.” Merlin opened his mouth, paused, started to say something, stopped, and just as Arthur was about to ridicule him for hurting his brain with all that thinking, Merlin took a visible breath and said all in a rush, “I have magic.” His whole demeanour changed after he said those words, his shoulders dropping down, a small, tentative smile pulling at his lips, and his blue eyes meeting Arthur’s steadily. Disappointment weighed heavy on Arthur’s heart. Here, he thought Merlin had actually decided to confide something in Arthur and he gets this nonsense. Arthur gave an exasperated sigh and said, “Merlin, whatever’s going on, you can tell me. If it’s not about Guinevere, that’s fine. I can admit when I’m wrong. Just tell me what this is really about.” Merlin just looked annoyed at Arthur’s words which he took deep exception to. If anyone was going to be annoyed, it should be him. He was the one trying to be supportive and a good friend, even though they weren’t actually allowed to be friends, and Merlin was just spouting rubbish in return. “I already told you,” Merlin gritted out, “I have magic. I use magic. I am magic!” “Right,” Arthur said doubtfully, wondering why Merlin kept carrying on about this, “The manservant to the Prince of Camelot is a sorcerer.” “I can prove it,” Merlin said obstinately and Arthur was getting really tired of whatever game this was. “Okay,” Arthur said hotly, “Do it.” Merlin suddenly looked nervous again, uncertain, and Arthur decided to put an end to his sick game. “What’s it going to be, Merlin?” Arthur asked snidely, ignoring Merlin’s upset frown, “You gonna push me back, push me down? Crush me with magic?” “Of course not,” Merlin said sadly as Arthur took a menacing step forward. “What? Is that not cruel enough? Or were you thinking something subtler? You gonna infiltrate my mind? Take away my free will?” Arthur was advancing and although Merlin looked like he might start crying, he didn’t retreat from Arthur’s anger. “Or were you planning on something more vengeful. Tell me, Merlin, were you planning on burning me alive?” “No!” Merlin shouted, horrified, as any decent denizen of Camelot would be, just as Arthur knew he would be. He may be sticking to this twisted lie for some unknown reason but Arthur knew his heart, knew he couldn’t be a murderous sorcerer. Arthur shook his head, his anger vanishing, replaced by a sort of dejection. He didn’t understand Merlin at all in this moment. “Then what is it?” Arthur asked tiredly, fervently wishing that Merlin had just told him the truth but not being able to bring himself to say it. “I practiced something,” Merlin said hesitantly, “Just for you. Well,” he added hurriedly, “Just for this moment. To show you that I will never hurt you.” “As if you ever could,” Arthur scoffed at that. Merlin ignored Arthur’s comment and held out his hand. “All the proof is here,” Merlin said precisely, the words sounding slightly rehearsed, “All you need to do is take my hand.” Arthur didn’t even think about it. He stretched out his own hand and wrapped it around Merlin’s, who used the contact to pull Arthur close. They were far closer than they needed to be, their chests brushing against each other as they breathed, Merlin’s breath coming out rapid and anxious. Licking his lips, Merlin ordered, “Stand on my feet” and instead of commenting on who actually gave the orders here, Arthur stepped forward, closing whatever gaps may have existed between them as he placed his feet on top of Merlin’s. After a steadying breath, Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s torso, giving him a hug. Arthur snorted at that. If this was all just some elaborate plot to get a hug out of Arthur, there were better ways to go about it. Arthur was going to say as much but, feeling how Merlin was trembling against him, instead he decided to wrap his own arms around the lanky man and return the embrace. The quiet peacefulness of the moment was shattered, however, and Arthur immediately stiffened and tried to push Merlin away as he heard the unmistakable sounds of a spell being cast. Though he couldn’t recognize any actual words, he knew the sound of that magical language, even when uttered in Merlin’s clear voice. Arthur struggled to free himself but Merlin held him in place with an iron grip Arthur wouldn’t have previously credited him with and then they were rising. Arthur struggled, trying to gain his freedom whilst the ground was still a reasonable distance away but Merlin’s hold was unforgiving and then it was too late. Arthur went deceptively docile in Merlin’s arms as they approached the tops of the forest trees, thinking they would stop below the tree line and though they weren’t near any branches that he could spring to, still, his mind was a constant whirr of escape routes. Yet, Merlin’s spell took them even with the trees and then lifted the pair above them, the wind whipping around them furiously, they were so high. Though no longer struggling, Arthur kept rigid in Merlin’s encircling arms, cursing that he had left all his weapons with the horses. Due to their position, their heads were pressed alongside each other, their cheeks brushing and the clean scent of Merlin’s hair infiltrated Arthur’s nose; Arthur would have to pull his head back to actually look in the face of the traitor who held him suspended in the air, something he wasn’t willing to do. So instead, his glare was lost on the unending sea of green of the forest below him as he growled his accusation into Merlin’s ear, “You have magic.” “Yes,” Merlin replied, the feel of his lips ghosting against the shell of Arthur’s ear as Merlin worked to make himself heard above the roar of the wind. “I was born with it,” Merlin said as if that was any kind of explanation. “It’s illegal, Merlin,” Arthur said adamantly, “Everyone who uses it is evil.” Merlin’s grip around Arthur tightened before he said perfectly matter-of-factly, “It I was evil, then this is the point where I’d be dropping you, wouldn’t it?” Arthur grabbed hold of Merlin’s shirt in preparation for just that but Merlin didn’t even twitch, keeping his arms wound tight around Arthur. “Arthur,” Merlin said earnestly, “You can trust me. I have magic and I use it to help as often as I can. I have magic,” Merlin said again, not having the decency to sound the least bit ashamed by that fact, “And you can trust me. I won’t let you fall.” Arthur scoffed at that, not loosening his hold on Merlin’s shirt by one iota, not willing to have the moment he let his guard down be the moment he plummeted to his death. He would have to be a fool to trust a sorcerer and the fact that this particular sorcerer was Merlin would not sway him. All sorcery was evil, there were no exceptions. There couldn’t be. Merlin wasn’t speaking anymore, letting Arthur stew in his thoughts. Arthur wanted to rail and rant, he longed to have the reassuring weight of some kind of weapon in his hand as he processed this betrayal, and he wanted, very badly, to be on the ground so that he could put some distance between himself and Merlin. He couldn’t think properly, he couldn’t fully commit to his father’s lessons, with Merlin’s solid form pressed against him. He couldn’t force the level of detachment he needed to separate his memories of Merlin with this sorcerer when Merlin was so solid and real in his arms. He needed space, he needed distance…he needed Merlin to try and kill him. That would force his decision and prove his father right, that his father’s actions were in the right. Yet Merlin remained silent, staying faithful to his last words and keeping Arthur safe in his arms. As long, protracted minutes passed, Arthur’s hands started to ache from the strain of clenching them around the rough material of Merlin’s shirt. Arthur gritted his teeth as the pain in his hands increased, using every technique he knew to ignore the growing need to let go as his hands steadily fatigued. He stood at a precipice—almost literally—and it was only the strength of his hands that kept him from both a literal and metaphorical fall. If he let go of Merlin and his father was right, Merlin would let him fall. However, if he let go and Merlin maintained his firm grip on Arthur, then that meant Merlin, a sorcerer , could be trusted and that his father was wrong, putting everything Arthur had been raised to believe in in doubt. Arthur truly didn’t know which outcome he would prefer. He held off as long as he could, his hands starting to shake as he fought to maintain his hold on his only chance at making it through this encounter alive. Eventually, Merlin started talking, outlandish stories where he acted as the hero, using his magic to save the day, but Arthur refused to give his words credence. The strain in his hands rose in tandem with a growing weight in his heart, but Arthur strove for control. He was a knight, the best Camelot had ever seen; he could overcome the limits of his body. “You can trust me,” Merlin was saying, over and over, finished with his stories of falling branches, statues coming to life, and magical rescues, “Magic is a part of me and you can trust me.” Arthur felt the urge to break his stalwart silence and refute Merlin’s claims but pride wouldn’t let him. And then, he had other concerns to occupy himself with; his strength finally failed him and he was forced to loosen his grip. The pain of hands too tightly clamped closed for too long finally stretching open was negligible to the pounding of his heart as he fully expected to feel the sickening jolt of falling now that he could no longer latch onto Merlin. Arthur hurriedly opened and closed his hands, pushing past their reluctance to close and stretch, trying to get them back to a point where he could once again reliably take hold of Merlin. Eventually, it entered Arthur’s panicked mind that Merlin had not sent Arthur plummeting to his death yet. As that fact truly penetrated, unbelievably, Arthur began to relax. As his frantically pounding heart began to slow and the pain in his hands slowly receded, the words he hadn’t wanted to listen to, the stories he hadn’t wanted to believe, stubbornly came to the fore and forced Arthur to consider them. Merlin had once again fallen silent, only the roar of the wind as it whipped around them meeting Arthur’s ear, reinforcing just how high up Merlin had taken them both. Magic, clearly and unequivocally, and yet Merlin wasn’t using it to harm Arthur; he had the chance and he was letting it pass, keeping Arthur safe instead. That action revealed more to Arthur than anything Merlin could have possibly said and as each second ticked by with Merlin keeping Arthur secure in his arms, the safer Arthur felt, until eventually, he was ready to pull his head back a little and look upon the face of the sorcerer who had served him and (apparently) saved him for the past year. “Did you really do all of that?” Arthur asked as he met Merlin’s worried gaze with his own, steady one, having to shout even louder than he had been before to be heard as he was no longer speaking directly into Merlin’s ear. “Yes,” Merlin said after moistening his lips, increasing his volume as well, though it was still a little hard to hear as the wind tried to steal his words away. “I did.” “Why?” Arthur asked, genuinely curious how this impossible man had come into his life and upended it so completely. “Because,” Merlin said with deep sincerity, “You’re a good man, Arthur Pendragon, despite your best efforts to hide it,” Merlin added with a small smile, “And I wouldn’t see you dead. Not if I can stop it.” Arthur paused, really letting Merlin’s words sink in, before giving Merlin a curt nod of understanding, if not acceptance. It was all too new, and they were still way too high up, for Arthur to really know how he felt about all this at the moment. “Do sorcerers make a habit of flying around?” Arthur asked, wanting to change the subject and thinking of how he would have to change his knights’ formations to compensate for such a skill. Merlin laughed, distracting Arthur, his heart jumping in a much more familiar way at seeing the unabashed joy that Merlin never made any attempt at concealing. He started talking just as the roar of the wind reached a crescendo, drowning out some of what he said. “…Magic comes in many talents, categories, with a variety of skills associated with each talent. Magic requires practice for us to master any skill, let alone a talent. It took me a week to feel I could perform this skill. To put that in perspective, it took me only a handful of hours to successfully transform the dog statue,” Merlin explained, joy still radiating off him as Arthur actually listened to his explanation on magic without looking like he was battling murderous rage. “Though,” Merlin added, an almost shy look overtaking his joy as he continued, “it took that long because I practiced something else, too. Something I want to show you, if you care to see it?” Arthur had to strain to hear Merlin’s question, as his voice became uncertain as he offered to show Arthur more magic. And, as much as Arthur longed to feel the reassuring firmness of solid ground again, he was curious to know what Merlin had spent a week doing whilst not getting drunk at the tavern. “Alright,” Arthur gave his permission and Merlin’s smile rivaled the brilliance of the sun, in Arthur’s estimation. Still, Arthur felt uneasy at what he had just done, what he had just agreed to. When Merlin started casting his spell, that magic language falling from his lips, Arthur couldn’t help but tense. And when Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, Arthur nearly flinched, as he had never experienced anything pleasant in the presence of that flash. Arthur took stock as the swirl of gold slowly receded from his eyes to once again reveal Merlin’s vibrant, comforting blue but nothing seemed to have changed and he wondered if Merlin’s spell had failed. It wouldn’t surprise him, given how inept Merlin could occasionally be. “Do you trust me?” Merlin asked, looking hopeful. The question took Arthur off guard, though, he supposed, it really shouldn’t have as Merlin had been saying all along that Arthur could trust him. It was a question that should have an obvious answer; Merlin was a servant and a sorcerer. One, Arthur had been raised to ignore as they were only there to serve a function, whilst the other, Arthur had been trained to hunt down and destroy. Of course, where Merlin was concerned, he had never been able to do the former and the latter…was unthinkable. But did that mean he trusted Merlin? Before today, if pressed, he might have said yes but he wasn’t sure that was the case anymore. Merlin had held back a fundamental secret, had lied to him to protect that secret, and though Arthur understood why Merlin had done it and at least he was bringing everything out in the open now, Arthur really didn’t know if he could completely trust this new Merlin. “I don’t know,” Arthur answered honestly, Merlin giving a nod of acceptance though he couldn’t hide his disappointment. He was just opening his mouth to say something when Arthur spoke over him, words rushing out that he hadn’t actually meant to say but that he refused to take back, “But I’m willing to try.” Arthur hadn’t realized he was going to say that, he didn’t know where this supposed “willingness” had come from. He hadn’t even been aware of making any kind of decision, one way or the other, but some part of him, perhaps the part taking note that Merlin still held him close, making him feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun as he felt almost like Merlin was holding him like he was something precious to him, must feel some form of certainty. “Okay,” Merlin said reassuringly into Arthur’s ear, head once again pressed along Arthur’s, his warm breath a gentle caress compared with the whipping wind, “That’s okay.” Arthur felt the scrape of Merlin’s cheek against his own as Merlin nodded, probably inanely but Arthur couldn’t see to be sure. “Can we get down now?” Arthur asked, much more politely than he felt he ought. It seemed his mouth and brain still weren’t agreeing on what he was feeling at the moment. “Actually,” Merlin said, a bit of mischief in his voice that Arthur didn’t trust at all, “I thought we might stay up here a little bit longer.” “What have I told you about thinking, Merlin?” Arthur drawled, the playful words coming easy. “To do it, since you can’t be bothered,” Merlin shot back without hesitation and since there was no way he could see Arthur’s face, Arthur let himself smile, just a little. “Just wait until we’re back on the ground,” Arthur said menacingly, a small part of him shocked that Merlin had revealed that he used magic and yet, seemingly, nothing had changed between them. “But until then,” Merlin chirped, uncowed by Arthur’s false anger, “The spell I practiced, the one I just cast.” Arthur clenched his jaw at Merlin’s casual attitude towards his magic use, like it was an everyday, normal thing that he did but held his tongue and listened to what Merlin had to say. “This spell, it’ll make the air feel as solid as the ground under your feet. You can take a few steps, move around, just don’t let go of my hands.” “And why would I want to walk around on air that feels like ground when I can just walk on the ground without the pesky risk of falling to my death?” Arthur asked. “I bet Morgana would do it,” Merlin taunted, the smile clear as day in his voice. “Are you calling me a girl, Mer lin?” Arthur asked indignantly as he’s the one who is supposed to needle Merlin with that jab, not the other way around. Merlin was not only a sorcerer; he was a thief! “Actually,” Merlin said with a laugh, “I believe I said that a woman is braver than you.” “Fine,” Arthur snapped after thinking that over for a moment. Arthur took a big gulp of air that he tried to hide by turning it into a sort of half-snort, ordered himself sternly not to so much as glance down at the ground far, faaar below him, and took a deliberate step back, shooting a challenging glare towards Merlin as he did so. Arthur’s foot sank lower and lower, much further than he thought reasonable if Merlin’s spell worked at all like he said it would. He was just starting to think Merlin was a liar when, it turned out, he was just incompetent and put the “floor” too low. Arthur’s foot finally hit “solid ground” a good half metre below where he and Merlin had been floating, causing Merlin to tower over Arthur as Arthur removed his other foot from Merlin’s. Arthur shifted his weight slightly, testing just how reliable the spell below him was. It certainly wasn’t at all like standing on true terrafirma. Sure, his feet were being supported and he wasn’t plummeting to his death but there was an insubstantial quality to the “surface” beneath his feet, like stepping onto land after a long time at sea and feeling the rock and roll of waves that were no longer there. “What now?” Arthur asked with a surly expression as he had to look up to talk to Merlin, which just should not happen. Temper turned to shock, however, as Merlin gently ran his hands up Arthur’s sides, around his shoulders in a sensuous glide, and then down his well-muscled arms, the warmth of Merlin’s hands seeping through Arthur’s shirt pleasantly. Then, they were holding hands, Merlin’s surprisingly large hands clasped around Arthur’s own. Merlin then took a step down—a very strange sight in mid-air—and started to sway. The roiling quality of the “ground” didn’t seem to unsettle Merlin as he used his hold on Arthur’s hands to move him side to side, mirroring the “ground’s” movement with an odd sort of grace. For a being who was so clumsy on the ground, up here Merlin appeared to be at ease, more confident in his movements and Arthur found himself following Merlin’s lead. Though the only sound surrounding them was the rushing wind, Merlin led Arthur through the steps of one of his favourite dances, pulling their bodies close, then back, close and to the side. Arthur took a step back from Merlin, keeping him at arm’s length and shouted in confusion, “Why are we dancing?” Merlin responded with a joyous laugh, throwing his head back, the sun glistening along his pale throat like the caress of a lover. “We’re walking on air, Arthur,” Merlin replied, “What the hell else are we going to do?” Arthur thought about that and, for the first time since Merlin took him up into the sky, truly took in his surroundings. The wide expanse of blue had never seemed to vast, the sun so warm and welcoming, the earth below him a tapestry of colour, like a living quilt. It was all wondrous. Secretly, as Arthur tipped his own head back to take in the kiss of the sun’s rays, he thought, no wonder people turn to magic, if this is the result . “Can I spin you?” Arthur asked playfully, a quirk to his lips that Merlin ignored in favour of letting go of one of Arthur’s hands, taking control of his body, and leading him through a breath- taking and perfectly executed twirl. “No,” Merlin said with a smirk. Accepting that he was in no danger and that Merlin, at his heart, was still the same idiot and friend he’d been before this reveal, Arthur play-growled and wrested control back from Merlin, twirling him and leading him through the dance steps until they were breathless with laughter and falling against each other, the wind stealing away and hiding the sound, the evidence, of their joy in the use of magic.

Merlin is attacked, and Arthur is furious, but revealing the reason why may change their relationship forever. Based on a tumblr post by whumpster-dumpster. Notes See the end of the work for notes “Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice as flat as the stare he had fixed on his manservant, “you’re bleeding.” “Huh? Oh.” Merlin put down the tray of food he had been carrying on the table, tentatively touching his split lip and flinching a bit at the pain. When he drew his hand back, he was, in fact, bleeding. He chuckled, trying to ease some of the tension that was emanating from Arthur. “I’ll just get myself patched up by Gaius once I’m done here.” Arthur stood abruptly from his desk, his chair scraping against the floor. Merlin felt his heart start racing as Arthur stalked closer to him, Merlin leaning onto the table as Arthur’s arms came to rest on either side of him. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before Arthur tugged out the chair that was next to Merlin. “Sit.” For the first time in his entire career as a manservant, Merlin did what he was told without complaint. Arthur’s eyes scanned Merlin’s entire face, his hand coming up to gently cradle Merlin’s jaw. His other hand brushed away Merlin’s fringe, tracing along a cut just above his eyebrow and traveling down to circle a bruise along his cheekbone. Finally, his touch feather-light, his thumb grazed across Merlin’s lips and wiped away the remaining blood there. His eyes were soft as he did this, and Merlin felt himself growing dazed, heat following wherever Arthur’s hands touched. “Merlin.” “Yes?” Merlin hated how breathy his voice sounded, but he was sure that in this moment, he would do anything Arthur asked. Arthur’s soft eyes grew murderous. “Who did this to you?” Merlin snatched his face back as if Arthur’s enticingly warm touch now burned. It’s not that Merlin couldn’t tell Arthur who attacked him, but to tell him the reason he was attacked… Merlin plastered on a reassuring smile, doing his best to sound normal. “Oh, you know how clumsy I am, sire. I simply,” Merlin searched for a probable explanation for his face and, though Arthur hadn’t seen the bruises yet, his body. “fell down the stairs.” “You—” Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed before he let out a scoff. “You fell down the stairs?” “Yep.” Arthur turned his back to Merlin, walked a few paced, then turned on his heel and stomped back to him. “You are a terrible liar, you know.” “I’m not lying!” Merlin tried and failed to sound indignant. “If you don’t tell me yourself, Merlin, I’ll simply have to investigate.” Arthur crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, giving Merlin a look that rivaled Gaius. Merlin felt his heart stutter. If Arthur found out the truth, he would never look at Merlin the same. He might even fire him on the spot… or worse: execute him. “You can’t!” Arthur sighed heavily, kneeling in front of Merlin. He put a hand on Merlin’s knee, his thumb absentmindedly stroking as he said, “Merlin, you can tell me anything.” “Arthur…” Merlin’s hands were gripping the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned white. It was just a simple touch, yet Merlin was having immense trouble thinking clearly. “Stop.” “Stop what?” There was his confused look again, and Merlin would’ve found it endearing in any other situation, but right now, Arthur was just too close. “Stop caring about me so much, stop being so kind to me, and stop touching me!” He blurted out, and the hurt on Arthur’s face as he withdrew his hand from Merlin’s knee was enough to prompt him to add, “I don’t deserve it.” “Who told you that? Your attacker?” The murderous glint to his eyes was back. “No—I—It’s—” Merlin sighed heavily, deciding to just get it over with. “Arthur, I like men.” When he was met with a blank stare, Merlin continued, “That’s why I was attacked. There’s a rumor going around the lower town, and it happens to be true.” Merlin, whose eyes had been trained on the floor during his confession, risked a glance at Arthur. He looked stunned, and Merlin wanted to make a hasty exit before that shock turned to disgust. “I understand if you aren’t comfortable with me as your manservant anymore, and I promise I never tried to take advantage of my position or anything like that, but I’m just going to go and—” Arthur’s hand grabbed his shoulder as Merlin tried to stand, gently pushing him back into the chair. “Tell me everything. Start at the beginning.” Though confused, Merlin obliged. He told Arthur of how he realized he was different from the other boys of his village around puberty. While everyone was busy with courting the prettiest girls in the village, Merlin was busy thinking about Will. He told him about how, while supportive, his mother told him he must never let anyone know or even suspect his preferences. He told him about his heartbreak when he found Will kissing a girl by the creek, and how he was glad to be sent to Camelot after that. He told him how he wished he was normal, or at the very least, that he could find someone like him. By the time he finished his tale, Merlin found that he was crying, mourning the fact that he would never know true companionship. He startled out of his reverie when Arthur wiped away one of his tears. “Arthur?” Merlin asked, hesitant. “I thought I was the only one.” Arthur smiled, ruefully. “What?” Merlin croaked, his mouth suddenly dry. “Merlin,” Arthur smiled, happily this time, “I like men, too. My whole life, I thought that there was something wrong with me and that I was the only one, but now… Now there’s you.” A laugh burst out from Merlin, shocking them both. “I just can’t believe it.” “But, Merlin,” Arthur sobered, “while we’re being honest with each other, I must tell you something.” Merlin felt his heartbeat quicken as he nodded, fearing the worst. “I don’t just like men… I like you.” Merlin leaped out of his chair, his hands coming to cradle Arthur’s face as he pressed their lips together. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the pleasantly surprised look on Arthur’s face. “I like you, too.” “What are the odds?” Merlin smiled as he wrapped Arthur in a tight hug that was quickly returned. “One in a million.” End Notes Hey, guys! I know it's been forever since I've posted anything, but I've been really depressed lately lol I hope y'all are doing better than I am Also, sorry if the ending is super cheesy!! Comments and Kudos are much appreciated as are prompts since I'm not in the most creative headspace right now! Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

People [are] hiding everywhere; stand still as a stone... Merlin has imagined telling Arthur his secret. He's thought about it countless times, hundreds upon hundreds. Thought about his fate, his destiny to serve Arthur as the Once and Future King. But he's never imagined this. Never thought this would happen, never thought he would take such a step. And now he is certain that his end has come. (Or, Merlin plans or rather decides spur of the moment to reveal his magic and - if necessary - die trying. Because how can he be completely, utterly certain that he is immortal, Kilgharrah? And how can he truly serve Arthur if he forever conceals an integral part of himself?)

“What can I do for you, Sire?” Gaius asks. “Is Merlin around?” Arthur says. A pause. “No.” “You sure?” Arthur raises an eyebrow. “He is out gathering herbs.” “Mind if I come in, then?” Arthur insists. He walks in, without waiting for a response. He is the King, after all. Merlin is literally just sitting at the table. The idiot didn’t even try to hide. The druids really ought to find a better leader. ******* Arthur doesn’t want to have to deal with the ways he is different from his father. Merlin is tired of secrets and pretending they don’t both know what is going on. And Arthur doesn’t know much about destiny, but he does know that Merlin isn’t evil, and Gwaine possibly is. Anyway, the trees have seen it all. Notes some disclaimers: you’ll have to forgive any historical inaccuracies here, I’m definitely not an expert. I also took the liberty of having Lancelot happily engaged to Gwen. They are very wonderful, and Merlin and Arthur are very stupid. I literally just wrote this for the last scene, which came to me in the middle of the night and had me way too emotional. The friendship between the knights is probably one of my favourite things about Merlin and I wish I had explored it more. Maybe I’ll write something else soon about that friendship, but please know as you read this that they are all completely obsessed with each other, even if they won’t admit it. I don’t really reference much that actually happens in the show, this is sort of an au where everything else is vaguely is the same but the actual plot is also put on hold for a bit so Arthur can sort out his feelings for Merlin. Don’t think too hard about it. See the end of the work for more notes 1.The Dragon said it was Destiny. Arthur finds it is different, in the woods and in the castle. In the castle, Merlin is his terrible servant who lives with Gaius and who makes fun of his knights. In the woods, Merlin is his terrible servant who is also his closest friend and who he would willingly give his life for. It’s not his feelings that change, necessarily, but out here, everyone understands the way they feel because they feel almost the same way. That undeniably makes it different. The sky is starting to darken as they eat, Arthur and the knights having dragged Merlin out on a hunting trip. He complained, but honestly, Arthur swears he’s starting to enjoy parts of it. Perhaps not the killing animals, but the escape, the stars, the comradery, probably. And Arthur understands. He lives for those bits too. It’s not that he minds being King. It’s all he’s ever known or imagined and he’s happy with it, as bold a claim as that may be for one only officially crowned a week ago. Still, sometimes it is nice to escape for a short while and eat stew made with fresh meats around a fire. Arthur hears laughing, and pulls himself out of his thoughts. “And that’s not even mentioning the time Uther married a troll!” Merlin was saying. “Oi!” Arthur frowns. “Stop laughing at my father, he’s not even cold in the ground.” “Well it’s not like he can hear us, Princess. And this is so fascinating!” Gwaine grins. “Anyway, I’m not laughing,” Merlin shakes his head, definitely still laughing. “It’s literally just a fact that it happened.” “He’s got a point, Sire,” Leon raises his eyebrows. The traitor. Arthur shakes his head and clicks his tongue. He doesn’t mind, not really, and they know it. He’d even grudgingly admit to thinking it’s nice to have people who don’t step so carefully around him. Not out loud, of course, that would hardly be proper. Anyway, the stew Merlin makes is nice enough to almost make up for his complete lack of manners. “I will put you all in the stocks. Don’t test me.” He says, and he truly thinks he is pulling off the Stern King act, until he notices his own smile. By the time they finish eating and talking, the moon is high in the sky, and it is a warm enough night to sleep on bedding rolls without any shelter. Merlin goes to clean up while the knights prepare for the night and lay around the fire that is burning itself out slowly. And if Arthur puts his bed a little closer to Merlin’s than he ought to, he’s pretty sure nobody notices. It is only when he can hear Percival’s gentle snores that Arthur allows himself to open his eyes and turn his head to find Merlin looking over at him. Merlin’s smile widens, and Arthur cocks his head, gesturing for Merlin to come closer. Arthur is no idiot. He knows he shouldn’t so desperately want to lay under the stars with Merlin in his arms, and he suspects that Merlin has the same fears. For now though, they settle with this - an unspoken embrace that they won’t even think about when the sun can see them. 2.His friend said it was betrayal. There are definitely advantages to being King. Arthur likes that he can make his own judgements now - likes to think he is being more just and fair than Uther ever was. He likes that he isn’t always being monitored and told if he is a good enough son, a worthy heir. He even, admittedly, likes the clothes and the crown. However, the way he sees it, the biggest disadvantage is that he can’t ever get a moment to himself. He is constantly surrounded by guards and servants and as much as he tries to tell them that he can look after himself thank you very much and he already has a servant who is more than capable - which he even manages to say with a straight face - they still won’t leave him alone. He expects it will wear off eventually as they learn that he doesn’t want the same constant dedication his father did. For now, though, it’s frustrating. It is only really his chambers that they don’t come into. Guards still stand at the end of the corridor, but he’s used to that, and the servants have gathered that Arthur won’t allow them to enter without clear permission. Apart from Merlin, of course, but that hardly counts, him being Arthur’s personal manservant and also probable best friend and all. He regrets thinking that almost immediately, remembering that he is currently annoyed at Merlin. The idiot failed to show up for his job today and left Arthur without anyone to share knowing looks with at today’s meeting. It is a relief when Arthur’s duties in court are finished early and he can retire to his rooms. He is just thinking he should maybe send somebody to find Merlin and remind him that he is in fact required at the feast tonight when he hears the crash coming from his bedroom. Instinctively, Arthur puts a hand on his sword and races to open the door. Well. There’s Merlin. There’s also a washing pot smashed on the floor in a puddle of water. And a selection of Arthur’s own clothes, suspended in mid-air. They shouldn’t be doing that. Merlin is holding a broom and the horror in his eyes even scares Arthur. Arthur takes a step back and shuts the door again. He stumbles over to the nearest chair and collapses on it. He counts to thirty and then stands up. He doesn’t have to address this. If he addresses it that means he has to think about it and if he thinks about it that means it happened and Arthur really, really doesn’t want it to have happened. He knocks on his own bedroom door, like some sort of commoner. Merlin opens it. Arthur peers inside. There is still a broken pot on the floor, but now the clothes are laying in messy piles and the broom is in the puddle. Arthur looks Merlin in the eyes. “Please refrain from breaking all my pots, Merlin. And tidy that mess.” He says. His voice doesn’t even shake, which he is quite proud of. Merlin frowns, but Arthur doesn’t let him speak. Instead, he promptly leaves his chambers. There’s never been a better time for a training session with the knights, Arthur decides, so he gathers them and lets them complain about it. It’s a good distraction. Over the next few weeks, Arthur gets good at pretending he didn’t see anything. Thankfully, Merlin seems to get the message. Sometimes, Arthur genuinely does question what he saw. Honestly, he really might have got it all wrong. There’s certainly no cause for concern. He has bigger problems, anyway, like preparing the castle in case Morgana attacks again. Still, he can’t help but notice little things. Like when they go on a hunting trip and Merlin lights the fire without anything in his hands. Or when Leon is playing a card game with Merlin and Leon just happens to lose his grip on the cards right before he makes a winning move. The time when the two of them almost get captured by bandits, until a branch falls from a tree and blocks the path just after they get past it. But Arthur isn’t thinking about it. Coincidence is a wonderful thing, and there’s no way that his idiot servant could really have done any of that. 3. His Mother said it was safety. Arthur has been king for over a month now. It’s all going quite well, really. The people are warming up to him and he has heard rumours that they are feeling a lot better about his reign than his father’s. He misses his father, naturally, but he can also accept that he wasn’t the fairest of rulers, so he understands why they speak this way. He’s happy that they accept him as King so easily. Merlin rolls his eyes when Arthur mentions this. “You just like that they like you, you arrogant prat.” He has even gotten away with not having to face any magic within the kingdom, up until now. Up until this idiot of a druid shuffles into his court, asking to speak to a man named Emrys. Arthur doesn’t know what to do. For a start, he doesn't even know an Emrys, let alone have one in his court. And that’s not even getting into the fact that according to the laws of Camelot, he should technically be immediately ordering the execution of this woman. He doesn’t want to do that. It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. Arthur has never felt right about killing people for no reason. But really, she comes walking in here, putting him in this position! It doesn’t feel like a considerate thing to do. “Who is this man you speak of?” He asks. He hears Merlin shuffle behind him, and assumes his servant dropped something. He manages not to turn around and roll his eyes. “Emrys is our leader, Your Majesty. I need to speak with him. It’s important.” The druid woman says. “Right. Well I’m afraid I can’t help you. You’re aware magic is banned in Camelot, aren’t you?” The druid nods, hesitantly. Merlin coughs. Arthur still doesnt turn around. He deserves congratulations, honestly. He doesn't even need to turn though, after all, because Merlin takes it upon himself to try to sneak out of the room, which means Arthur both can look directly forwards and roll his eyes at Merlin. “Merlin?” He sighs. “Sorry. Um. I need some water.” Merlin says. “Yes, fine, go on.” Arthur waves a hand. The majority of the court around them looks annoyed, a few of the older members even starting to tut. Arthur glowers at them, but he’s definitely going to shout at Merlin later. He turns back to the druid woman. “Right.” “I was mistaken.” She shouts out. “There is no Emrys here.” Well, obviously. Arthur nods. “Leave, and never return.” He commands. The guards step to escort her out, but Arthur shakes his head. No need to treat her like a criminal. If she leaves as she is told, then surely nobody can blame him for that. The session gets back to normal, after that. Just the typical Not Enough Grain and Too Much Sickness problems that he is equipped to handle. Merlin never makes it back in, but as Arthur is leaving he bounds up to the door and walks with him back to his room. “What the hell were you playing at, Merlin?” Arthur asks. “Do you want me to look like I have absolutely no control whatsoever?” It comes out more pathetically than he would have liked. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Merlin grimaces. “Just be quieter next time, I suppose.” Arthur says as they turn the corner. Merlin chuckles, but he sounds slightly on edge. They reach Arthur’s room, and Merlin locks the door behind them. That’s unusual. Arthur turns to him, brows furrowed in his unspoken question. Merlin breathes out slowly. “What is it?” Arthur asks. “I should make up another lie, you know. But I am so tired of it and it’s not even like it’s actually a secret anymore.” Merlin mutters, more to himself than anything. He seems to shake himself and nods. “Ok. Arthur. I have magic. Was born with it. We should talk about that.” Arthur feels his blood run cold. No. They definitely should not. But now Merlin has started talking he doesn’t seem to be able to stop and Arthur can’t figure out how to make his tongue work. “And really, I would never dream to use it against you, Arthur, or Camelot, or anyone, really, unless it’s in defence. And I didn’t choose to have it but I do and it’s part of who I am and the prophecies all speak of how I should protect you with it so I do that but it doesn’t really make me evil, I swear, and-” “Merlin.” “Yes, Sire.” Wow. Merlin really must be frightened, to be using titles. Arthur sits down on his bed. Merlin continues to fidget where he stands. Finally, Arthur lets himself think about it. He lets himself feel all the things he has been scared to feel and he has refused to think. The main emotion surging through him is one of betrayal. If he can’t trust Merlin, who can he trust? Why did Merlin never tell him? Oh Gods, was Merlin scared of him? Did Merlin have such little faith that he thought Arthur could ever do him harm? “What do you mean, protect me?” Arthur tries. So Merlin tells him. Staring at the floor the entire time, Merlin tells stories of all the times that apparently Arthur failed, and it hurts. It hurts that Arthur never achieved the things he thought he had. It rips him apart, in a way. And so does the fact that Merlin risked his life, so many times. That hurts too. Merlin tells him stories in the meekest voice Arthur has ever heard come from his mouth. After, Merlin stops, and says “I think that’s the big ones,” and Arthur stares at him. “Why are you telling me now?” He asks flatly. “The druids need help.” Merlin says, quieter than ever. “Why would you know this?” Arthur continues to use his best monotone. “The druid that came today told me. Um. The druids call me Emrys. Well. I’m in some prophecies. She said that there’s a beast attacking all their camps. They just need a place for their injured and homeless to stay, for a bit. They want to come here because I’m here. I think they’re under the impression I have a bit more leverage than I do.” Arthur sighs. “And what? You expect me to do something?” Arthur asks. Merlin scrunches his face and his shoulders sag. “Get out of the room, Merlin.” Arthur sighs. Merlin unlocks the door, his hands visibly shaking, before he turns and leaves. Arthur can’t clear his mind well enough to think clearly about this. He knows he is upset. And he wants to be angry. He really does. But all he can seem to feel is pity. Pain for the man who suffered through all he did without any recognition. Merlin doesn’t show up for work the next day. It is George that brings the King his breakfast. That morning, he sends a message for Gaius to pass on to Merlin that he will not do him any harm. That afternoon, he sends a messenger to the druid camps, telling them that if they are inconspicuous about it he is willing to house those who need it most. That evening he sends a second message to the druids telling them that he will help them fight this beast if they need it. 4. The old King said it was a reward. Two weeks go by, and Arthur hardly sees Merlin. He hears that Merlin is doubling down on his work with Gaius. Lancelot comes to him, one evening when Arthur thinks he had slipped away into the woods alone, and asks where Merlin is. Arthur shakes his head, but then Lancelot says “I know,” and Arthur finds out he knew about the magic all along and he feels jealous. “So, what is he getting up to?” Arthur asks, and he tries to say it casually, at least. “Tending to the sick. He helped the druids who were attacked get back to their camps. Uh. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but he got rid of whatever it was attacking them.” Lancelot says, his face schooled into a blank expression. Arthur shut his eyes, ashamed he didn’t even know. “That sounds dangerous.” He says. Lancelot shrugs, then nods. “He’s feeling really down. He misses you.” Arthur makes a noise of exasperation in the back of his throat. “Why did he have to go and tell me then?” He throws his hands into the air. “I don’t know what he expects me to do! It’s illegal. I’m being ridiculously lenient!” “I know, I know. I don’t think he wants you to do anything. I don’t think he imagined this part - the part after he told you about it. But I think you should talk to him. We all miss having him about.” Arthur makes no move to react, and Lancelot walks away. Arthur stays in the trees for some time, probably hours. When he starts to feel too cold, he runs a hand through his hair before climbing onto the horse he brought. He heads back, keeping the horse moving slowly. He misses Merlin too. Of course he does. But everything he has ever been taught tells him that magic is evil. It was drilled into him for all his life - magic corrupts and taints people until they aren’t even people anymore. That the kindest thing you can do for a sorcerer is kill them. But the thing is, Merlin doesn’t seem very evil. Arthur saw him trip over his own shoelaces, once. There’s been times when he has shown up in the morning with his tunic on backwards. Plus, Merlin’s been in Camelot for years. Surely if he wanted to do them harm, he would have done it by now. He seemed so genuine when he was telling Arthur that he didn’t mean to hurt him, too. And Merlin does that thing where he tugs on his ear when he’s lying so Arthur would know. The idea that Merlin has been ‘protecting’ him seems hardly better, though. He thinks back to the things Merlin said he has done to look after him. It makes him sound so pathetic. How can he be a great king if he can’t even look after himself? Furthermore, it makes him sound like such a horrible person. He has been insisting Merlin is an idiot, thinking nothing of it. Was that all an act? Who even is Merlin, and did Arthur ever see it? Then there’s all the things Merlin must have suffered. He couldn’t even talk about it! He has mourned people Arthur didn’t even know existed and never let it show, not once. How much has he dealt with all by himself? Arthur has always thought he knew the man well; could tell how he was feeling, but he fears that his servant was a stranger all along. When Arthur gets back into Camelot, he takes a back passage - a secluded one with less experienced guards. It’s mostly used by servants, but Arthur used to come here a lot as a teenager. He never felt the need as he grew up and tried to become the perfect heir, especially not now he is King, but his knowledge of how to sneak in and out never failed him as a youth and it is certainly not going to fail him now. He shrugs off the guards as he goes through the gates, insisting he needs to be left alone. Hah. They should never have let him in like that. He could be anyone really, they didn’t even ask to see his seal. If he wasn’t so grateful for it he’d have them fired. He is tying up the horse, still avoiding attention when he hears the crying. It’s so quiet that if there were others around, he’d have missed it, but the sound is so heartbreaking that Arthur whips around to see who is there. It’s coming from behind the stables, he realises. He treads round, keeping his footsteps as silent as he would close to rabbits on a hunt, and cranes his neck around the corner. It’s Merlin. It’s Merlin who is crying. Guinevere is sitting with her arms around him on the floor, squatting in the mud. Merlin is facing away. Guinevere is not. Her eyes meet Arthurs, and she scowls. It’s a shocking expression on her face, but it does clear up what Merlin is upset about. And Arthur is terrible at emotions, but the thought that after everything Merlin has done, Arthur has upset him this much - that isn’t nice. Guinevere jerks her head, and Arthur takes the hint. He edges away from the stables and climbs the stairs to his room. George is standing in his doorway. Brilliant. Exactly who he needs to see, Arthur thinks sarcastically. “Ah, there you are Sire. We were beginning to worry.” George says while bowing deeply. It’s so unfair. How does he manage to be both overly respectful and passive aggressive all at the same time? Arthur nods, and pushes past him through the doors. George follows. “Why are you serving me George?” He sighs, rubbing his face. “Merlin said you asked for me. He said you no longer require his service.” George says, frowning slightly. He gasps. “Did I understand wrong, your Majesty? My greatest apologies if I have wronged you?” “No, no. ‘S fine.” Arthur says. “It’s just, I never really fired him, exactly.” George’s eyes widen. “I never meant to assume-” “Nothing to do with you. Just. Tell him I’m expecting him back tomorrow morning, okay?” Arthur says. “And tell him if he keeps avoiding me like this I’ll have him in the stocks again, for old times sake.” George nods dramatically. Arthur rolls his eyes. “And deliver that bit as a joke.” He allows. “He’s apparently a bit fragile at the moment.” 5. The Knights at the table said it was friendship. There is no servant waking him up the next morning. Instead, he is woken when Gwaine comes crashing in, followed by spluttering guards who clearly don’t know if they are supposed to arrest the knight or not. “Son of a bitch. He’s still in bed.” Gwaine shouts. “What the hell is going on?” Arthur breathes, sitting himself up. It’s never his favourite thing to say immediately upon waking. “You’re late to training Princess. And I was all for saying, hey, fuck it, I didn’t even really want to be here anyways, but Leon got all serious saying we have a duty or whatever, and then Lancelot seemed a bit worried something had happened to you, and then I realised that you would never let us get away with being late so I came to get you. And here you are. Asleep.” “Oh.” Arthur said. Merlin still wasn’t showing up, then. “I’ll be down in ten. Tell Leon he’s in charge until I get there.” Gwaine nods. “Ok. I definitely won’t be doing that, but okay.” He pauses. “Why were you asleep? Are you not meant to get woken up and like, dragged around?” Arthur appreciates that he didn’t use Merlin’s name, but they both know that is what is being alluded to. “Hm. You’d think.” Arthur grimaces. Gwaine snorts, but then his face flickers into something more weighty, for a moment, and he says, “look, I don’t know what you and Merlin fell out about. But it’s pissing me off a bit, ‘cos he won’t talk to me and I do not appreciate the way he will talk to Lance but not me. And like, no offence Princess, but I came to Camelot for him, really. So fix it.” He nods, and then skips out again. Arthur makes it out to the training grounds about half an hour later to find Gwaine and Lancelot missing. The others - Leon, Elyan, Percival, and then all the ones that he doesn’t like quite as much - are doing pretty well without him. Still, if there’s two things Arthur is an expert on, it’s fighting, and asserting himself. So he shakes his head and strides over. He’ll deal with his personal issues later. *** The trouble with later is that it tends to come pretty quickly, so now Arthur is pacing his room as he tries to figure out what to do about Merlin. He wants to talk with him, obviously. He just isn’t entirely sure what he wants to say. He had been hoping not to have to plan it too much. If Merlin had just stopped hiding away and showed up this morning they could have a nice spontaneous conversation. But now Arthur is having to think about it and he really can’t think of an outcome that works. He is just about to give in and call for a different servant to take Merlin’s job when Gwaine bursts in, again. “What the fuck?” Arthur says flatly. “We need to talk, actually.” Gwaine says, his eyebrows raised. He swivels and shoos the guards hovering behind him. They look to Arthur who sighs and nods. They leave and shut the door. “Why the fuck was I not the first to know about this whole magic business?” Gwaine demands. So he knows then. “Keep your voice down.” Arthur begs. “And why are you asking me? It’s got nothing to do with me.” “I mean, it does. In a way. But I’m not asking you, I’m asking the Gods at large. Because Lancelot? sure. They met before you were all blessed with my friendship, but why on earth would the idiot not bother to let me know once we did meet? But no , he waits until I ask Lancelot what’s going on and Lancelot sends me over like he has some sort of authority.” Gwaine storms. “Lance says its because he was trying to protect me and he didn’t want me to go down with him if you decided to murder, but obviously you would never do anything to hurt Merlin because you’re in love with him and I think if you were going to kill me you’d have done it by now. And no offence, but your laws are pretty stupid because everything I’ve seen in kingdoms where magic’s legal has got me feeling pretty okay with with it. Actually, judging people by what they do with the magic seems so much better, so he didn’t need to worry about me caring in that way. I just don’t get it.” Arthur notices he has stopped talking vaguely, but can’t find it in himself to respond even to the blatant treason. He’s pretty sure his face has gone white, and his thoughts are, very unhelpfully, just circling the word ‘love’ round his brain over and over. “Anyway-” Gwaine goes to continue, having caught his breath, but Arthur holds a hand up to stop him, and for once, Gwaine shuts his mouth. “Love?” Arthur breathes. “Ah.” Gwaine grins. “Yes.” Arthur makes it over to his desk and collapses into a chair. Gwaine finds an armchair to throw himself into. It’s times like this that Arthur remembers that Gwaine is much more intelligent than he gets credit for. He knows how to talk bullshit, clearly, but he also knows when to shut up. After at least five minutes of silence as Arthur leans his head on his desk, he looks up. Well. He has a plan. It’s a terrifying plan, yes, but the knights of Camelot don’t get scared. So he takes a deep breath. “Tell me more about how other Kingdoms treat magic, Gwaine.” *** Right then. Time to start destroying his father’s legacy. Arthur is doing everything he can not to become hysterical. He’s never loved the way that people who hadn’t hurt anyone were killed so quickly, but he never dared to consider doing things another way. Yet, if Gwaine is telling the truth, which is already a dangerous assumption, it can be safe. It will have to be done slowly, and it will take a long time to build any sort of trust between his courts and the users of magic. Hell, he’s still half convinced that magic is inherently evil and it’s going to take a lot of educating himself to change his mind. But Merlin? Definitely not an evil man. Just an idiot and a liar. That he is apparent in love with. And that is why he needs to learn more. He has already found all of the books that Uther confiscated on magic. He tried reading one but put it down about three sentences in. He’s not that big on reading, but he will do it. At some point. Honestly though, he has bigger priorities now. He glances at the parchment on his desk, which reads: find Merlin tell Merlin I am not going to kill him or even banish him but I am still angry with him tell Merlin I want to legalise magic shout at Merlin for keeping secrets from me and ignoring me for almost three weeks without even being dismissed legalise magic find out if Merlin loves me It’s not the sort of list he would like his father to be looking down and reading. Or maybe looking up? Arthur isn’t sure. He turns the parchment over, just in case somebody comes in. By this point he has no more excuse not to just get on with it, so he heads out to find Merlin. He likes having a plan. It makes everything feel less like treason against his Father and more like he is just doing a job. He knocks on the door of the physician’s chambers, and Gaius looks surprised to see him when he pulls it open. “What can I do for you, Sire?” He asks. “Is Merlin around?” Arthur says. A pause. “No.” “You sure?” Arthur raises an eyebrow. “He is out gathering herbs for me.” “Mind if I come in, then?” Arthur insists. He walks in, without waiting for a response. He is the King, after all. Merlin is literally just sitting at the table. The idiot didn’t even try to hide. The druids really ought to find a better leader. “Hello Merlin.” He smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes but he hopes it comes across as friendly. “Arthur.” Merlin replies. “Let’s go for a walk.” Arthur says. It’s a command and Merlin can tell. He’s got that look in his eyes that he always gets when Arthur tells him what to do. Unusually though, he doesn’t complain. He gets up and gives Gaius a placating look, then leads the way out of the room. They walk in silence as they leave, and Arthur takes them the back way out. The leaves on the trees above them are starting to turn golden and drop underfoot. Arthur knows this is Merlin’s favourite time of year. He mentioned it a few years back. Maybe being out in it now will make things better. They get to a clearing in the trees, close enough to the castle walls that they can hear the bustle of the town, but far enough away that they won’t be overheard or seen. Arthur squats down to sit on the floor. Merlin copies. This feels like a sitting down conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me.” Arthur accuses, then flinches. Great. Whining was exactly how he wanted to start this. “Can you blame me?” Merlin frowns. “Yes. A bit. When have I ever given you the impression I’d do anything to hurt you?” Arthur says, wounded. “What?” Merlin shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.” “Oh.” Arthur falls silent, trying to work out what the fuck he’s talking about. “I just didn’t want to put you in that position. How could I make you choose between me and Camelot? You’d hate yourself either way.” Arthur lets out a shaky breath. This was all for his benefit. Again. Merlin has let himself suffer for Arthur’s benefit. He doesn’t know how to start talking about that though, so instead he says “Why did you even tell me, then?” Merlin laughs, but there is no humour in it. “I didn’t really mean to tell you, then, you know. I’d always imagined you finding out on some battlefield, somewhere. But then you saw. And you didn’t say anything and I felt so awkward and wrong all the time. And I’d just spent all morning lying to Percival about why his arm was getting better so quickly and I was just so tired of it all. So I ruined everything.” “That’s dramatic,” Arthur snorts. Merlin doesn’t react. “Right, sorry. You didn’t ruin everything, Merlin. I don’t hate you for it and I didn’t hate you even when you first told me, really.” “You sent me out of the room.” “Yes. That was wrong of me. We needed to talk. Maybe I’m the one who ruined things.” Arthur agrees. “No. It’s my fault.” Merlin closes his eyes. Arthur looks at him properly, at a loss for where to go from here. And fuck, does he look terrible. He’s looking almost as scrawny as when they first met, and there are deep dark circles under his eyes. He seems paler than before. The worst part is that the spark of joy that Arthur took for granted as a part of Merlin is gone. He just looks exhausted. How is Arthur supposed to be angry with that? “Open your eyes.” He instructs. Merlin does. “You are such an idiot. Stop being awful. You don’t get to keep putting me above yourself. Anyway, I’m going to make magic legal.” There. He said it. “Gwaine says it’s possible, and before you complain this is not just to win you over. I have been thinking about it for ages.” (That’s a bit of an over exaggeration, but he does truly believe he would have gotten there eventually even without Merlin, so it will suffice as an explanation.) Merlin blinks. “You aren’t taking advice from Gwaine? ” And there’s the spark, coming back. Arthur smiles. “Well, my favourite advisor is having a strop. I’ve been making do.” “You can’t just make magic legal Arthur. It will never be that easy.” Merlin sighs. “I know it won’t be easy. It’ll take years probably. I’ll need your help, I think. I think the first thing I need to do is make official peace with the druids.” Arthur shrugs. Merlin turns to look him in the eyes with a hesitant grin. “Gods, you’re serious. I didn’t think you were.” Arthur shrugs. “It’s been a long time coming, probably,” he says, and then looks away with a smirk. “I do what I must to get my armour polished.” “I literally sent you George. He probably polished it ‘til it was a whole new colour.” Merlin laughs. Arthur has missed that sound. He shakes his head slowly and gazes at Merlin, with his stupid cheekbones and his idiot hair. “I was going to be angry with you. For keeping secrets and lying to me and putting yourself in far too much danger. At first I really thought I should hate you. I still probably should be angry with you.” Arthur pulls up a blade of grass and twirls it in his fingers, speaking almost absently. “I should be angry with you, Merlin, but all I can think about is how much I love you.” Gods, Arthur hopes he isn’t blushing. There’s at least thirty seconds that pass in silence. That definitely feels too long and Arthur is about to stand up and run back to his room and never get out of bed when he feels Merlin’s lips on his. And then, the world is right. 6. The servants said it was a job. Merlin wakes him up the next morning, but it is different because Merlin is also in his bed. Arthur likes this a lot more. Merlin apparently does too. “I get it.” Merlin nods. “You get what?” Arthur asks, brow furrowed. “Why you never want to get out of bed. Obviously I was wrong about the fact that you have better things to do because I think this mattress is the best thing that there is in the whole of Albion.” Arthur agrees wholeheartedly. To prove this, he pulls Merlin closer by his waist. It’s like it is in the woods, only so much better, because they have all the time in the world. “That being said,” Merlin declares and pulls the covers off the both of them. “I have a job to do and so do you. Rise and shine Arthur!” He chimes. Arthur decides he actually does hate Merlin a little bit. He buries his head in his pillows. There’s a knock on the door and he sees Merlin look over questioningly. Arthur considers not letting them in because whoever that is should definitely just schedule a time and place to talk to him properly. He never gets to make that call, though, because the doors crash open and Gwaine strides in. “Morning Princess,” he says, rubbing his eyes. He spots Merlin and does a double take. “Oh! Brilliant! I was just coming to see if he was doing his job again and here he is!” Arthur nods, silently wondering if there was a coup he didn’t hear about that put Gwaine in charge. He rolls his eyes and Gwaine skips over to Merlin and pulls him into an embrace. “I am so very happy for you both.” Gwaine nods. “I will tell the other knights that you are busy this morning so that you can have sex.” Arthur throws a pillow at his head as he dashes out, and Merlin’s cheeks colour. “Well, I suppose everyone basically knows now.” Merlin groans. Arthur decides that Gwaine is definitely not too good for the stocks, knight or not. “Wait. No. He can’t tell everyone.” Merlin blurts out. He’s already starting to run out after his friend as Arthur asks why. Honestly. This is the second day in a row of getting himself dressed. Obviously he doesn’t actually care that much, but it’s the principle of the thing. He sleepily heads out of his room in search of a different servant who can be trusted to bring him breakfast without running away. It’s not until he is almost finished eating that Merlin waltzes back in and helps himself to a sausage. He sits down on Arthur’s bed to eat it, and explains that he figured Gwaine shouldn’t spread rumours due to the fact that they don’t want any suspicion that Arthur is ensorceled, and that’s the reason for legalising magic. Arthur’s eyes widen. He should have thought of that. When he gets to training later, Gwaine winks at him and Lancelot looks away in a way that shows he is definitely just pretending not to notice. The point is further proven when he sidles over to Merlin at the edge of the field and they start to talk animatedly. Arthur looks away. Leon smirks at him, eyes flicking between him and Merlin, and Arthur rolls his eyes. Elyan nudges Percival in the ribs and nods over at Merlin with a grin. That’s maybe a good sign. They’re probably just happy he’s back, right? But then Gwaine saunters in their direction, whispering “I swear nobody else” as he passes Arthur, who promptly decides that keeping a secret from all his idiot friends is a lost cause. It’s a good job they are all too obsessed with Merlin to think the worst. Probably, if Merlin did put a spell on Arthur, they would take Merlin’s side anyway. They can all come when he goes to find the druids. It will be nice. *** Next time they are all in the woods, it is with a peace treaty to propose. Merlin thinks the druids will be open to it, if Arthur makes himself out to be truly sorry. That shouldn’t be hard. As he has learned more and more about these people, partially from books but mostly from Merlin, he feels worse and worse about the way they were treated. Merlin has been telling him lots over the last two months, and Arthur has learned lots. He has learned that magic is not good or bad, and the person using it is the one who does the harm. (Or good, as Merlin puts in.) He has learned that the druids are an inherently peaceful people. He has learned that Merlin is the son of the dragonlord they found and he has learned that he was probably very insensitive when Merlin watched his father die. He has learned that there were prophecies made about him, calling him the Once and Future King, claiming he will bring about a Golden Age and bring magic back to camelot, and then unite the whole of Albion, so long as Merlin keeps him alive long enough. He has learned that these prophecies were thrust upon Merlin when he was just a teenager and he feels upset that Merlin has been carrying such a heavy burden by himself for such a long time. He has learned that Merlin is supposed to be the most powerful warlock there ever will be, and has even been called magic itself. He has also learned that this changes absolutely nothing about Merlin’s character, because Merlin definitely is still a clumsy idiot who doesn’t know the difference between types of spoon and sometimes puts his socks on inside out and hates to let him kill animals they have hunted or even found running around the castle. His favourite thing he has learned is all about Merlin and the way his mouth tastes and the way he squirms when Arthur touches his neck and the sounds he makes when they are in bed with the candles blown out. The point is, that he truly does want to apologise to the druids. It’s just annoying that they are so hard to find. Merlin sighs and says that they have had to be because they don’t want to get killed. Arthur shoves him into a puddle. They stop riding when the sky starts to darken, and set up camp for the night. As the winter approaches the blankets they need are a lot heavier and Arthur wishes the fire wouldn’t burn out while they sleep. He says this out loud and Merlin shrugs before his eyes turn gold and the fire grows stronger. “Ok.” He says and Elyan starts to applaud. Gwaine quickly joins in and before Arthur knows it they are all laughing and the knights are asking him to do more magic, and Merlin is actually doing whatever they ask for like some sort of court jester. Arthur rolls his eyes. He knows his part of the performance. They all know that’s all it is. They climb under the blankets, and Arthur shares the widest one with Merlin as they lay together. Everyone definitely notices. 7. He said it was love. Arthur still hasn’t really been king for long, and he doesn’t feel particularly good at it yet. He isn’t doing a bad job, whatever he knows his father would think, but the people still don’t quite know what to make of him. Sometimes, he takes walks through the lower town and hands out food to the hungry and helps children reach the apples on trees. Merlin says that this is a ridiculous performance at being all good and noble. Arthur agrees that that might have a bit to do with it, but he does also like being helpful. The servants have backed off and are treating him as they did when he was prince again, which is nice. There are still guards who seem to think they need to watch him wherever he goes, but he has gotten quite good at shaking them off without offending them. He has made a tentative peace with the druids, who don’t properly believe it yet but Merlin is trying to bridge the gaps. Arthur still pays Merlin as a servant, but he makes an effort to give him as little work to do as possible and finds that he actually doesn’t mind doing a lot of the servant’s jobs for himself. In public, of course, Merlin still pours wine and carries bags and walks two steps behind Arthur. But Merlin has always been so much more than a servant and they both know it. *** The castle is feeling oppressive tonight. There is no specific reason for it, but Arthur wants to get out. Merlin laughs and says they could always just leave, then, so they do. They take a horse each and charge through the woods under the stars, and Arthur doesn’t know what type of King he is going to be yet, but he can feel that the promised golden age is coming, and he wants Merlin by his side for it. They come to an open space and Arthur slows down. Merlin copies. Arthur jumps from the back of his horse. Merlin sort of awkwardly slides down. “Did you ever learn the constellations, Merlin?” He asks. “No. Because I’m not a rich prat.” Merlin comments. “I always liked looking at the stars, though,” he concedes. “Let’s do that, then.” Arthur decides and so they lay on the floor on their backs together. It is very uncomfortable, but then Merlin reaches out to hold him and it gets nicer. They lay in silence for a while, enjoying the night air and the occasional sound of owls in the trees. “One day, Merlin, when we’ve sorted all of this out properly, I’m going to make you court sorcerer.” Arthur whispers. “No you aren’t. That doesn’t exist.” Merlin whispers. “Used to. In the old days. I’m going to bring it back.” Arthur shrugs. “People will have to call you by a title.” He adds. “They definitely will not,” Merlin says. “But the rest of it sounds nice. You should do it. I dare you.” Arthur laughs. They are quiet for a moment longer. “And then, Merlin, I am going to marry you.” He says, still whispering. Merlin keeps his eyes on the stars. “I’d like that.” He answers. “Will people mind, though?” He asks, sounding genuinely unsure. “Lancelot had the idea I could frame it as an alliance to magic. To prove I’m dedicated to righting the wrongs and all.” Arthur tells him. Merlin beams at the moon. “This better not be the proposal.” He says. “Of course not. I will do a much better proposal when you are least expecting it. Guinevere will tell me what to do.” Arthur nods. “No, I mean this isn’t the proposal because I will be proposing.” Merlin whispers. “I’m going to tell Gwen she can’t help you at all, because you are a clotpole and I will do it better.” “Shut up, Merlin.” “What will you do next?” Merlin whispers, obviously just to be annoying. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll have to find some general King Stuff.” He snorts. “Do you want to hear my idea?” Merlin murmurs. “Well, I suppose you are going to be my most important councillor one day.” Arthur pretends to consider. “But you are not yet.” “What is that supposed to mean? That’s a terrible answer. Do you want to hear it or not?” “I would like nothing more.” Arthur says. He says it sarcastically but doesn’t really mean to, and Merlin takes it as an invitation anyway. “I think we should listen to the dragon. Unite Albion. End all these wars that keep happening over land.” “Imagine.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “I am. Nobody in Camelot ever goes hungry if you can do anything about it. You actually get to know your people. I will never ever say this again but other kings are worse than you. I think if anyone is going to do it, it should be you.” Merlin is still speaking quietly. It’s as though they think that by whispering, the things they say don’t mean anything. Arthur doesn’t talk for another minute. “I suppose it would be nice. To not have people suffering all the time.” Arthur allows. “The balance of the old religion would be restored, if you did it, I think.” Merlin mutters. “It’d be impossible, though, Merlin.” “Maybe. Maybe not. You’d go down in history.” Merlin grins. “We would go down in history.” Arthur corrects. Merlin smiles. He turns to face Arthur for the first time since they lay down, and now they’re looking into each other’s eyes as they shiver in the cold. “Yeah,” Merlin breathes. Let’s be legends, Arthur.” “Let’s be legends.” *** And so, they were. End Notes thank you for sticking this out!! ly all Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Two of our favorite idiots in a story that leads to the invention of........ Notes So this is something that popped into my mind in the middle of my French class today. And then I wrote it in between classes.... Please bear with the horrible writing. I thought it was kinda cute and shitty at the same time. But who cares, it's out for the world to see I hope y'all like it :) See the end of the work for more notes It was a chilly afternoon in Camelot. The usual hustle and bustle had simmered down by this hour. The people walked around the town covered in their blankets, cloaks, or the closest piece of fabric to give them warmth. Meanwhile in the castle, going about his routine like any other day, Merlin waltzed into Arthur's room to wake him from his siesta. He expected to find the King tightly curled up in his quilt and yearning for a little more warmth for comfort. Instead he saw Arthur sitting at the edge of his bed with a tiny frown playing between his brows, staring intently at the floor with a hand propped on his knee cradling his beautiful face. He hadn't noticed Merlin's presence….. yet. This is unlike Arthur. Merlin thought to himself and made his way to his sweet, sad (?) King. "Arthur." No response. "Arthur?" Still no response. "ARTHUR!!" Can he not hear me?! My dragons would have appeared in front of us if I summoned them immediately. Realization dawned on him and a mischievous smirk slowly crept it's way to Merlin's lips. Hmm….maybe this will work. "HEY DOLLOP-HEAD!!" "Huh!?! I'm up! I'm awake!" A startled Arthur seemed to react to this endearing name. Although barely glancing at his beloved confidant. Classic. Merlin thought and let out a faint giggle. "Oh, it's only you, Meeerrrrliiiinn." Arthur lets out a sigh and goes back to being his gloomy self again. Merlin moves closer to his bed and makes himself comfortable next to Arthur. "Arthur, you know you can tell me anything right? I'm here, to listen to you talk, all you want. But please don't shut me out. Please Arthur. Whenever you're ready, let me know." As Merlin was about to get up, Arthur didn't speak instead he tugged at Merlin's hand, a gesture to make him stay. So he stayed. Arthur gently rested his head on Merlin's shoulder and the two of them sat in silence staring ahead at the fireplace, while Merlin conjured a variety of shapes and forms subconsciously. But it was okay, Arthur knew he had magic and lifted the ban on sorcery in Camelot for him and only him. Minutes had passed by, when finally Arthur broke his silence. "Emrys, I-" "Please don't call me that, Artur." "Okay, alright. I'm sorry. Merlin, I'm feeling all sorts of things. I can't quite put my finger on it. Can you help with that? I don't think so Merlin. It's mine alone to bear. I can't have you taking this upon yourself, not when you have a great destiny resting on your shoulders…." Merlin was not expecting that as a reply to his question from Arthur. He was….. Confused? Perplexed? Now he wasn't sure what he was feeling either. Arthur really put him in a spot. Either way Merlin responded. "Arthur, you are my destiny. Nothing can change that. So you might as well tell me, because what goes around comes around. Get that in your pretty little head, clotpole." Arthur, still not looking at Merlin, smiled a little at this. When Arthur finally does look at his beloved, he's bemused and is lost for words. He'd never seen Merlin wearing such strange things before. He's trying to hold back his laughter. But quickly reverts back to his frown because he remembers he's sad. Instead, he plainly questions Merlin. "What are those things you're wearing?" "What things?!?" "The things on your ears!!! You look ridiculous! A complete idiot! I'd even go to the extent to say you look like a total turnip-head!" "First of all, STOP STEALING MY WORDS ARTHUR PENDRAGON!" "Or what Merlin?! You're going to throw me out of my own kingdom? And what's your second point, cabbage-head?" Merlin visibly calm, pointed to his ears and said, "These are my old neckerchiefs stuffed with cotton. I put them over my ears to keep them warm, besides it's so chilly and my ears get cold really fast and I'll catch a cold." "Clearly only an idiot like you would do such a thing!" "Only a prat like you wouldn't want to protect themselves from the cold. Look at you! You're not even wearing a shirt when the majority of Camelot is freezing! And you shall see Arthur Pendragon, one day the people of the world will be grateful for this invention of mine." "Oh really Merlin, I'd like to see you try. So what are these 'things' called then?" Clearly Merlin didn't have a name for his invention. After giving it a little thought, he did come up with a name. "Hmm…. Ear muffs?" End Notes It was terrible, wasn't it? I'm gonna vanish from the face of the Earth. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

“To my shame, I must admit that I have made a small -”, Uther took a deep breath. “- miscalculation.” ...... “My lord, are you suggesting that I impersonate your son?” ----- Or: Of course, the king of Meredia didn't just come for a round of tea. No.... It is his goal to get the mighty Emrys out of the way to finally get rid of Arthur. There are two things he didn't calculate, however: 'Arthur's manservant' isn't Emrys. And Arthur is much harder to kill than he expected. That might have to do with the fact that Arthur isn't actually Arthur. That aside... the Castle faces bigger problems. Because no matter how much Leon needs George as his pretend manservant.... The staff needs George even more. And no, they do NOT care that someone is trying to kill Leon.... again. Well I suppose Merlin's and Arthur's past lives also play a role in this. But you gotta have to figue that out by reading ;))) (Merthur)

Arthur and Merlin go swimming. And Arthur sees Merlin. Notes Thanks to @SpiritWorld for being my beta! This fic is dedicated to the lovely people on the NootNoot Merthur server. <3 It was late afternoon and the sun was dancing through the trees of the forest that Arthur and Merlin were riding in. After hunting all day long, Merlin was tired, but Arthur seemed hesitant to return to Camelot, even though it wasn't far from their current location. "Arthur, can we take a break or go back home, please? You haven't even looked at the animals for a while now and I really don't wanna be on that horse anymore," Merlin complained. "Does your skinny arse hurt, Merlin?" Arthur mocked his companion with an amused grin on his face. "Yes, it does, if you must know. Even though my butt is really none of your business, your majesty," Merlin mocked back. Arthur wheezed. Funny enough, he hated it when Merlin addressed him with his official titles. Suddenly, Arthur stopped his horse and looked at his friend for a moment. "We could go swimming," he said. Merlin's eyes lit up instantly. "I know a lake that's only a couple more minutes from here," he answered with a wide grin plastered to his face. Arthur nodded and motioned for the guards to come closer. "You are dismissed for today," he advised them. "Return to Camelot and bring the prey to the kitchens. We will return before nightfall." "Follow me," Merlin said when the guards were gone before he rode off in another direction. * * * As soon as they reached the lake, Merlin jumped from his horse and secured both of their horses to a tree. "Finally!" he exclaimed overly dramatic, making a weird stretching pose with his arms. "I bet I will be faster," Arthur laughed and started to undress faster than Merlin had ever seen. "No way," Merlin laughed back, easing himself out of his boots and tunic at the same time. When Merlin was left in his small clothes only, he glanced up, finding Arthur struggling with the ties of his breeches. Merlin chuckled a bit and turned to his friend. "Let me help you, Clotpole," he said. With skilled fingers, he undid the knot. "There you go. It was a double knot." When he glanced up, he saw that Arthur was staring at his muscular chest. "Arthur?" Merlin said, stepping out of Arthur's private space, laughing more to himself, than to Arthur. "I -" Arthur shook himself out of his stare "- wasn't even looking." With one motion, he stepped out of his breeches and small clothes and ran into the lake. Merlin followed only seconds after. * * * The cold water was like a gift to Merlin's naked skin. He could feel the sweat and dirt of the day coming off and felt as if he could finally breathe again. "Don't enjoy yourself too much, Merlin," Arthur shouted from somewhere behind him. Merlin turned around and before he knew what was happening, Arthur tackled him and pushed both of them underwater. Merlin wiggled himself free from Arthur's grip and quickly emerged back over water. He caught his breath, and muttered a "You'll regret that, Arthur!" to his friend. "Yeah?" Arthur smiled flirtatiously. "Show me." Merlin splashed water into Arthur's face to buy himself a split second more of time. Then he yanked his body forward, throwing himself at Arthur with his arms outstretched. It didn't quite work though. Being a skilled fighter, with and without a sword, Arthur wasn't thrown off his feet in the way that Merlin had predicted. Although Merlin wasn't the small, lanky boy anymore that he used to be when he first came to Camelot, his stature was still smaller than Arthur's. Years and years of daily training and healthy eating had turned Arthur into a fit and muscular man whose body wasn't pushed under water easily. Years and years of hard work as a servant of Camelot, however, had provided Merlin with some physical power himself. The two men continued their water-battle for a while. Free like little kids they were chasing each other through the water, laughing together. Just two friends. Not a king and his servant. Just two men. * * * Soon, their movements became more gentle. Softer. Their touches lingered longer than before. "What's that?" Arthur said, pointing at a big scar on Merlin's right shoulder. "Oh, this," Merlin answered. "Back in Ealdor, shortly before I came to Camelot, Will and I were climbing a tree. The branches broke and we fell. Will almost died that day and I put all my energy into saving his life. I didn't even notice that I was hurt too. By the time we were back in the village, the wound had ripped open even further. My mom was angry at me for taking such a big risk. That's where the scar is from. From the wound that wasn't treated in time to heal completely." Merlin was avoiding Arthur's gaze, for reasons that Arthur didn't understand. "Look at me," Arthur demanded, softly turning Merlin's head around with his index finger. "It was not your fault. You were very brave and you managed to save your friend. You are a brave man, Merlin. You are not to blame for the accident. " "Thank you, Arthur," Merlin smiled. Arthur still hadn't taken his hand from Merlin's face. "Can I -" Arthur pulled his hand back into the water. "- I've never seen you like this before. Can I see you?" His cheeks flushed. "What do you mean?" Merlin answered, before the realization about what Arthur was asking for sunk in. Arthur had never seen Merlin naked before. He had never been this exposed to Arthur before. Merlin was a servant, he was always dressed when he was around Arthur. He was dressed when he helped Arthur to dress in the morning. He was dressed when he shaved Arthur's face. When he cut his hair. When he washed Arthur's back during bath time. "Oh," he said. "Yeah, I guess that would be fair, wouldn't it?" "Only if that's ok. I don't want you to do anything you don't want. But I would like to see you," Arthur added. Merlin nodded quietly, then he grabbed Arthur's hand and walked him out of the lake towards the shore, where he let go, took a step back, and turned around to face his friend. And Arthur saw Merlin. He saw his strong shoulders, the black hair on his buff chest, his strong hands, his legs, his everything. He saw Merlin's scars and bruises that seemed to cover his whole body and wanted to ask about every single one of them. He saw the curve of his neck, beautiful and exposed, without the usual neckerchief covering it. Arthur stepped forward into Merlin's private space, his eyes locked to the blue eyes of the other man. "You are beautiful, Merlin," he breathed, tracing the outlines of Merlin's lip with his fingers. Arthur's heart was hammering in his chest like it never had before and Arthur thought it might burst when Merlin leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. * * * The End Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

It’s an old tradition. Arthur’s not even sure who started it. It was in place long before Uther and, if Uther had his way, it would be in place long after Arthur. It was something that Arthur kind of…accepted as something that Camelot did. Though…as he thinks about it, that may not be the best basis for what to count as good or bad. Notes Thanks so much to nonny on tumblr for the prompt! I'm sorry it took so long and I hope it's what you wanted, I had fun with it See the end of the work for more notes Prompt for you - An age old Traditional practice in Camelot states that whichever visiting lord wins a celebratory tournament on Uther’s birthday gets to take two servants as an offering of goodwill. Arthur puts a stop to it when Merlin is picked to be one of them. It’s an old tradition. Arthur’s not even sure who started it. It was in place long before Uther and, if Uther had his way, it would be in place long after Arthur. It was something that Arthur kind of… accepted as something that Camelot did. Though…as he thinks about it, that may not be the best basis for what to count as good or bad. “Wait, what?” Arthur sighs, setting the parchment down and looking up at Merlin. “Have you got ale in your ears?” “Have I—what?” “Well, considering how often you’re at the tavern.” “Maybe if you’d just speak clearly I’d hear you just fine.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “I told you, Mer lin, it’s tradition. Whenever a lord wins the tournament on the king’s birthday, they get to take two servants from Camelot as an offering of goodwill.” “And what does Uther get if he wins?” Arthur shrugs. “It’s his birthday.” “You say that as if that makes it so Uther won’t demand something extra just because it’s his birthday.” “Fair point.” Arthur winces, stretching out the kink in his shoulder. “He wins the glory of making the visiting lord admit defeat and concede to his might, I suppose.” Merlin makes a face that is truly impressive, almost as impressive at how little he tries to hide it from Arthur despite knowing that Arthur is the prince and his father is the king. “Well, at least we know they won’t win,” Merlin grumbles as he continues his chores. “Why’s that?” Arthur raises an eyebrow. “You saying my father is a magnificent warrior all of a sudden? You told me he couldn’t break a pot if someone dangled it on a rope in front of him.” “First off, that was you that said that—“ “No, it wasn’t!” “Yes, it was!” “No, it most certainly was not.” “And second, ” Merlin continues, raising his voice slightly, “it’s not as if Uther has to win for the lord to lose.” Arthur raises an eyebrow. “And who do you suppose is going to win if he doesn’t?” “Well, you’re fighting, aren’t you?” There’s a slight flutter of something in Arthur’s chest but he pushes it away. “Are you saying you’ve finally realized what a magnificent fighter I am?” Merlin stutters, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. “N-no.” Arthur’s grin widens. “Yes, you are, aren’t you? Well, good. It’s about time you realized how impressive I am.” “You are not that impressive.” “No?” He tilts his head. “Then why’d you say that I was fighting?” “You, um,” Merlin mutters, stumbling over his words, “ happen to be better than a large majority of people.” “So you think I’m good.” “I didn’t say that.” “You just said I’m better than the majority of people.” “The majority of people in Camelot have never swung a sword before,” Merlin points out, “that gives you an unfair advantage.” “ Unfair—“ “Plus, you know the other knights will throw it if they go up against you,” Merlin continues gleefully, “Leon will, Lancelot will, Percival will…Gwaine might not…oh, but Gwaine could win.” “Merlin!” Although Arthur is loathed to admit it, when the day of the tournament finally rolls around, even Uther looks a little uneasy at the lord that walks inside. Arthur’s very glad he’s wearing his heavy cape and circlet. It gives him an excuse to shift under the guise of making himself more comfortable and not under the threat the lord’s heavy plate armor and solid stance gives him. Already he starts looking for anything that could be wrong; leaning too much weight on one side, slowness of step, even a slight tremor in his hand. But no, the lord moves as gracefully as a swan gliding through the water, nary a hitch in sight. “Uther Pendragon,” the lord booms, grasping the king’s hand in an enthusiastic grip. “Seibert.” Uther shakes his hand. “Good to see you again, old friend.” “What, you think I’m going to miss your tournament?” Seibert grins. “Not on your life.” “You may think you’ve still got something over me, but you won’t win.” “That’s what you’ve told yourself for years, and it hasn’t worked yet!” “On the contrary,” Uther laughs, “it’s worked several times.” “Well, if that’s the attitude you have…” Seibert starts looking around the hall. His eyes land on Merlin and Arthur’s hackles rise. Then his gaze flits over to Gwen and he sees Morgana’s hand twitch. “I think I know which two servants will be coming with me in a week’s time.” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, old man.” “I don’t like him,” Merlin mutters as the two of them move off down the corridor. And as much as Arthur wants to correct him, say he’s suspicious for no reason, something is there, just under the surface, that stands the hairs on the back of Arthur’s neck on end. “I don’t like him either.” But Arthur’s hands are bound. He can’t do anything about it. Not that his father would listen. Then he notices the three women that follow Seibert down the hall. He frowns. Merlin follows his gaze. “Who’re they?” “They’re…” Arthur squints again. “I know them.” “So who are they?” “They’re former servants of Camelot,” Arthur says finally, “that’s…that’s Holly…and Malwen… and Lillith.” “You? Knowing servant names?” “Morgana,” Arthur says by way of explanation, “they—they must’ve come with Seibert.” “You never said he’d won before. ” “Apparently,” Arthur mutters as they turn their attention back to Uther and Seibert, still laughing like old friends, “there is a lot my father doesn’t tell me.” Uther might not tell him much, but Merlin tells him plenty. Merlin comes back into their chambers that night, his brow furrowed like a lizard’s elbow. Arthur lets him get on with it until he stumbles around the edge of his desk and there’s no snarky comment. He sighs. “Alright, out with it, what’s wrong?” “What?” Merlin glances up at him. “I’m fine.” “You’ve been quiet all evening, now tell me.” Merlin stares at him a moment longer, then looks away. “It’s nothing.” “It’s bothering you, it’s not nothing.” Arthur waits as Merlin chews on his lip. “It was Holly,” Merlin says finally, “I was helping her get Seibert’s chambers set up and she was limping.” Arthur frowns. “And?” “And I told her she could go to Gaius, that he’d help her out, and she…” Merlin twists his hands together. “She looked…confused.” “Like she didn’t know where to go?” “Like she didn’t understand why I told her to go to Gaius.” “Well,” Arthur says, crossing his arms, “she’s been away from Camelot for a while, surely that might’ve been something she forgot. That Gaius is the Royal Physician.” “No, she remembered who he was,” Merlin insists, folding the clothes almost angrily, “but she… she didn’t understand why I told her to go to him.” Well…Merlin’s right, that doesn’t make sense. If someone is injured they go to a physician. That’s what you’re supposed to do. “The other thing that was weird,” Merlin continues before Arthur can say anything, “is that she said she tripped on the stairs and that’s why she was limping. Funny thing is, yesterday, someone managed to spill oil across the stairs from the kitchen to this floor, and it’s been blocked off.” “So…she lied?” Merlin shrugs. “Apparently.” That’s certainly out of the ordinary. It’s not like Holly would’ve been in trouble for limping. Much less in trouble with Merlin. Arthur shakes his head, walking forward to clap Merlin on the shoulder. “Look, it’s not like Camelot’s going to fall because one servant lies about how she got hurt, right? She’ll go to Gaius, he’ll fix her up, and we’ll be fine.” Merlin sighs. “I know. I’m just worried.” “You’re a soft one,” Arthur teases lightly, “it’s in your nature.” Merlin shoves his shoulder. “Anyways,” Arthur laughs, “I’ve got to get ready for a training session tomorrow. Since we learned about this Seibert fight we can’t afford to be down one of our best fighters.” “Aside from Gwaine, of course?” “If Gwaine’s alcohol tolerance counted as fighting skill, we could take the whole world,” Arthur says wryly. Then it’s time for the feast. Arthur watches Merlin scurry off to join Gwen as he and Morgana take their places at the table. He catches sight of a quick conversation the two of them have and sees Malwen join them, polite smiles giving way to real warmth as Gwen takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “They’re getting along quite well,” he hears. He turns, sees Morgana sit down next to him. “What do you think of them?” “The servants?” Morgana nods. “I don’t know, I haven’t spoken to them yet. Although…” He glances around to make sure no one’s watching them and whispers what Merlin’s told him. Morgana’s brow worries slightly as she takes it in. “Maybe she was embarrassed,” she murmurs, “didn’t want to tell anyone something happened?” “I don’t know.” Morgana glances over her shoulder and leans in closer. “Between you and me, and no one else, do you like Seibert?” “I haven’t talked to him either,” Arthur says, but he knows by Morgana’s tone that’s not what she’s asking. Sure enough, the look she gives him makes him lower his voice to a whisper. “No, I don’t like him.” “I don’t like him either.” Morgana risks another glance over her shoulder. There he is, coming in with Uther, both of them looking as proud as peacocks. “Well, at the very least, we know there are servants there who’re from Camelot.” “Yes, I’m sure Gwen will have a lovely time.” “As if I’d let him take Gwen.” “You may not have a choice.” Morgana gives him a look. “Would you let him take Merlin?” Before Arthur can answer, Uther and Seibert arrive, Uther raising his glass in a magnificent toast and the feast beginning. Everything runs smoothly, Merlin standing behind Arthur’s chair, Gwen behind Morgana’s, until they join the mass of servants filling glasses around the hall. Then there’s a sharp crack of pottery as everyone’s head whips around to see Malwen with her hands clapped over her mouth, a jug of mead spilled all over Gwaine. The hall falls silent. Gwaine peels away his mead-soaked chainmail as Malwen gathers the broken pottery with shaking hands when Holly came up and whispers in her ear. Malwen looks up in disbelief before nodding. As she bends to continue picking up the rest of the pieces, Arthur notices her hands are no longer shaking. “If you wanted to see me with my shirt off, sweetheart, you only had to ask.” Gwaine winks at Malwen as she mumbles another apology. He waves her off. “It’s alright, no harm done. Just fetch another and we’ll be set.” “Of course, sire.” She hurries away to grab another before making a swift exit, cradling one of her hands. Arthur’s about to turn away when Seibert makes what is quite possibly the lewdest joke he’s ever heard. Gwen freezes at his shoulder and even Gwaine looks slightly put out. Morgana’s mouth drops open and Uther stares at him in the uncomfortable silence. There’s an awkward pause until someone takes the goblet out of Seibert’s hand. “Perhaps that is enough for one night, sire.” “Feisty little flower.” The lord makes a grasp for the goblet but the hand lifts it and spins away. It’s handed to Gwaine who downs it gratefully. “I think Merlin’s right, Seibert, you’ve had enough.” He catches Percival’s eye and winks. “And that’s me saying that.” Just like that, the hall is back to ringing. Merlin makes his way back to Arthur and mumbles something to Gwen. Gwen nods sharply and takes the jug from him. “I’m going after her,” Merlin says to Arthur, “make sure she goes to Gaius.” Arthur nods, understanding what Merlin’s not saying. That’s two of Seibert’s servants now. And if Arthur watches the third one like a hawk for the rest of the night, well…he’s just doing it to make up for Merlin’s absence. As it turns out, it wasn’t Lilith that Arthur needed to be watching. It was Gwen. He finds her crying as she sweeps the throne room, and forces her to stop and sit with him for a minute after threatening to tell Morgana she was upset. “It’s nothing, sire, I’m just being silly.” “Gwen, I know you well enough to know that you’re never just being silly, you work too much for that.” Arthur rests his hand on her own. “Let me talk to Morgana, see about giving you a few days off. I swear, once this tournament is over everything will be better.” “No!” Gwen grabs his arm. Her eyes widen as she releases him like she’s been burned. “I’m sorry, sire, I didn’t mean to.” Arthur isn’t focused on her apology. He’s too busy looking at how she cradles her arm to her chest and recoiled from him as if…he’d raised his hand to strike her… “Gwen, has someone threatened you? Because if they have, I swear they’ll be dealt with swiftly.” “No, it’s nothing like that, no one’s threatened me.” Gwen’s voice is back under control. “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” Arthur opens his mouth to argue when a small knock comes from the door. “Sorry to disturb you, but the Royal Physician wishes to speak with you, Gwen.” “Of course, Sara, I’m on my way.” Gwen drops a curtsy to Arthur before walking over to Sara. “Shall we go now?” “Of course.” She leads the way out of the hall, leaving Arthur with far more questions than answers. Gwen comes back that afternoon. She seems happier, at least more at ease. Morgana corners him after Gwen left to see to the rest of her chores. “What happened to her?” “I don’t know.” “There’s no use feigning ignorance, I know something happened to her,” Morgana growls, crossing her arms, “she’s been flighty all day, now what happened?” “I told you ‘Gana, I don’t know she seemed different, especially…” He trails off but Morgana catches him. “Especially what? ” “Especially when I found her crying in the throne room this morning,” Arthur confesses. “ What ?” Arthur winces. “Why was she crying? What did you do? Why didn’t she tell me anything?” “Arthur? Morgana?” “Oh, hello, Merlin.” Morgana drops into a chair as Merlin walks in. “I didn’t mean to shout.” “I, uh, didn’t mean to overhear, but I can promise you Gwen is alright.” Merlin gives Arthur a look that says they need to talk. Arthur nods. Merlin sets the tray down on the table. “Gaius has seen to her and Gwen assured her she was fine.” “Gaius would do well to remember that Gwen is my handmaiden,” Morgana says sweetly, “and that if he has any concerns regarding my handmaiden he should come to me.” “Of course, my lady,” Merlin smiles as he leaves. “You do realize that wasn’t necessary,” Arthur says as he leaves, “he’s hardly going to rat you out to Gaius, and even if he did, it’s not like anything would happen.” “Not only do I have a reputation to maintain, dear brother, but it’s quite fun.” Morgana picks up the dagger he’d given her on her birthday and runs her fingers over the blade. “Merlin isn’t bothered by it and he’s are a relief after those awful haughty servants Vivian brought with her.” A smile crawls across her face. “Though I’m sure you enjoyed it.” “Says the woman who batted her eyes at every knight that arrived from the tournament last month. And did the same with Seibert.” “You know they fight better when you give them something to fight for,” Morgana says loftily, “and that most stupid enough to enter their lives in a game are quite subservient to the brain below the belt.” She snickers as Arthur makes a face. “Don’t worry about Gwen,” he says instead, reaching across the table to take her hand in a squeeze, “she’s a strong woman. She’ll be alright.” “I suppose you’re right. But if I find out who hurt Gwen — “ “I’ll tell Gaius not to bother patching them up.” She raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think there’d be a body to find?” The tournament is in two days. Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur are in Morgana’s chambers, having dinner. A meek knock comes on the door. “Come in,” Morgana calls. Lilith opens the door, slightly hunched, and glances around quickly. “Forgive me, sire, my Lady, I was looking for Gaius.” She bows and turns to leave. “If you want,” Merlin calls quickly, “you can tell me, or I can take you to Gaius now.” “No, no, that’s alright, I can find him,” Lilith stutters, “it’s not that urgent — “ “I’ll be right back.” Arthur doesn’t make a move to stop him. Merlin quickly walks over and gently steers Lilith out the door, closing it as they go. Morgana stares after them. “That’s all three of them,” she murmurs, “isn’t it?” Arthur nods, twisting the stem of the goblet back and forth between his fingers. “Something’s wrong.” “Gwen,” Morgana asks gently, “do you know what’s going on?” Gwen’s hands shake as she carefully pours another serving for the both of them. Morgana stands, taking the jug out of her hands and cupping them in hers. “Gwen, you can talk to me,” she murmurs, “please.” “We can’t let him win,” Gwen says simply, staring at their joined hands, “we can’t let him take any more of us.” “Why not,” Morgana prompts carefully, “will you tell me?” Gwen shakes her head firmly. “Not my place.” Arthur reaches out to pat Gwen’s shoulder. She nods in thanks and vanishes out the door. “I don’t like this,” Morgana declares, sitting back down, “and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” “So what’re you gonna do? Follow them?” Morgana gets that face in response. “‘Gana, no. ” “Bold of you to assume you can stop me from doing anything.” With that, she sweeps out. Arthur sighs. This tournament can’t be over fast enough. The day before the tournament, Arthur finds Morgana in her chambers, face pale, and curled around a hot goblet. “Morgana!” He rushes over. “What happened? Are you alright? Are your nightmares back?” “No…” Her voice is firm but quiet. “Not my nightmares. Nothing happened to me.” “Then what’s got you like this?” She takes a deep breath and tells him. The day after Merlin and Lilith left Morgana’s chambers, Morgana finds Lilith in the kitchens and asks her for a favor. Lilith does as she’s bid and accompanies Morgana back to her chambers. As they work, Seibert comes to see Morgana. They talk briefly, Seibert inquiring about Gwen’s health, Morgana about how he feels about the tournament tomorrow, and Seibert asks her to accompany him to the feast afterward. Morgana accepts if only to keep an eye on him, and Seibert leaves. After she finishes with Lilith, Morgana dismisses her and walks away, only to double back and follow Lilith from a distance. Lilith walks quickly to Gaius. Morgana follows, her heart in her throat. Stopping just outside the door, Morgana leans against the wall and listens. “And he came by?” “Yes.” “And he asked the Lady Morgana to the feast?” “Yes.” “And about Gwen?” Merlin. It’s Merlin and Gaius. “We’ll fix it, I promise. He won’t hurt you anymore.” What? “What happened,” Morgana says, pushing the door open, ignoring the way Lilith startled terribly, “who hurt you?” “Eavesdropping, Lady Morgana,” Gaius remarks dryly, “not your normal style, is it?” His tone is pleasant as if he’d asked about the weather. “I’m sorry,” Merlin mutters to Lilith, “I didn’t think you’d be followed. But I think she can help, if you want.” “Yes, of course I can help,” Morgana says instantly, “what do you need, how can I—?” “That is not up to you,” Gaius says firmly, “but up to Lilith. Morgana watches helplessly as Merlin beckons Lilith to sit on the chair by the fire. “Here, don’t you worry, no one here’s going to hurt you. Are they any better today?” Lilith shakes her head and whispers something to Merlin. Merlin’s turned away so Morgana can’t see his face but she can see his shoulders tense. “Alright.” Merlin lays a comforting hand on Lilith’s shoulder as Gaius turns to escort Morgana out. No. It would’ve escalated had Merlin not spoken. “Lilith, do you want Morgana to help?” Morgana stops, waiting anxiously for Lilith to reply. Then Lilith nods, looking up slowly. “M-my Lady?” “Yes, Lilith, what can I do?” “I…” She looks up at Merlin desperately. “Why don’t you tell her what you told me,” Merlin suggests softly. Lilith nods, worrying her lip. “I was…I have a sister. Mother and father died. Lord Seibert, he…he won me three years ago.” Morgana nods. When Lilith doesn’t continue, she looks to Merlin for help. “Seibert takes you away from your families,” he says quietly, still watching his hand stroke soothing patterns on Lilith’s shoulder, “because it’s tradition. And no one cares who suffers because of it.” Morgana’s breath catches. “… suffers ?” Merlin glances down at Lilith before slowly easing the back of her dress open and sliding the cloth over her shoulders, leaving her back bare and facing the fire. Morgana walks around and looks. She gasps. Lilith’s back is littered with burns and scars, the skin pulled tightly over the bones and the skin cracked and broken. In certain places, the burns are angry and peeling, covering slightly older ones. Lilith winces as Gaius gently begins applying poultices and wrapping bandages around the harshly disfigured skin, murmuring words of encouragement as he works, finding him watching her closely. “What—who did this?” Merlin levels a stare at her. “You know.” “What? No, I don’t know anyone who…” Morgana trails off. No. “Was it Seibert?” she asks weakly. “Yes.” “And all the others, did—did things like this happen to them too?” “Yes.” Morgana takes a deep, slow breath. As she lets it out, the fiery worry in her belly cools to determined steel. “We’re going to get rid of that tradition and see all of you returned home.” Arthur sits back, flabbergasted. Morgana stares at him as if daring him to comment. “So…” he starts, only to stop. He tries again, still nothing. “… hell. ” “Quite,” Morgana nods sharply, taking a sip from her goblet. “I—we—“ Arthur takes a breath— “how long has this been happening?” “I have no idea.” “Is there any way I can help?” Stare. “You want to help?” “It’s not right,” Arthur insists, “and it’s happening in my men under my watch. Of course I want to help.” Morgana smirks and takes a drink. “Well, well, well, look at how you’ve changed. A while ago, you would’ve scoffed and dismissed the whole thing.” Arthur wants to argue…it’s true. “We have to get Uther to stop the tradition,” Morgana says firmly. “How? You know he’s not going to take the word of a servant over the word of a lord, much less his close friend.” “And what about our words?” “It’s tradition,” Arthur insists, even as it makes him sick to his stomach, “and even if it wasn’t… you know Uther. He doesn’t care what happens to servants. Not enough to do something about it.” Morgana’s mouth forms a hard line. Arthur can see how badly she wants to argue, how much she wants this to be anything other than it is. It isn’t. “You’d better win tomorrow,” she says instead and downs the rest of her glass. Seibert doesn’t win. Something happens to his sword, it flies out of his hand at a crucial moment. Arthur has no idea what must’ve got wrong. Absolutely not a clue in the world. Seibert leaves and Arthur watches the caravan exit the citadel. Merlin stands at his shoulder and he wraps an arm around him. On his other side, Morgana takes Gwen’s hands in hers and squeezes them tight. As the four of them stand there, he thinks of family. And home. And the safety of knowing that no one will ever hurt you again. He makes a promise. When he’s king, the first thing he’ll do is get them home. When Uther doesn’t make it to his next birthday, when Arthur passes the order, when Seibert returns thinking he can snatch up two more innocent people, the look on his face is reward enough. But it’s nowhere near the relief that passes over Holly’s face, Malwen’s face, Lilith’s face, when he tells them they get to come home. It’s nowhere near the pride he sees on Merlin’s face, nor the comforting weight of Merlin’s body in his arms when he crushes his servant in a hug the instant their chamber doors close behind them. Never again. End Notes Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/ Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin visits Arthur in the hospital. Notes Written for Whumptober prompt nº 13: oxygen mask. When Merlin enters the room, Arthur has his eyes closed, but he opens them the moment Merlin sits in the chair near the bed. “Hello,” says Merlin. “They’ll take this in a moment,” Merlin adds when Arthur tries to remove the oxygen mask. Merlin takes Arthur’s left hand. In the right, Arthur has the oximeter the doctor placed to monitor his oxygen levels. Before meeting Arthur, Merlin would never have thought he had a thing for hands. But now, this is probably Merlin’s favourite thing in the world: holding Arthur lovely hands in his. Arthur nods, and Merlin thinks that he must be on sedatives; otherwise, he would not be so calm. Arthur is usually the worst patient on Earth. “Everyone made it. There are no casualties.” Merlin can see Arthur smiles at hearing that, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “The doctor says there’s no infection,” Merlin continues, “so all is good news.” Merlin never has problems filling the silences. He can talk about everything in any situation. But in moments like this, Merlin struggles not to break down. Even when Merlin can see Arthur is fine and he will recover in a few days. After all, it is not the first time Arthur gets hurt or suffers smoke inhalation, as it is today. It is a common risk of being a firefighter. “The doctor says they’ll discharge you in a couple of days. So you’ll not be getting out of our camping trip,” Merlin says, and he forces himself to smile. Arthur rolls his eyes, and now Merlin’s laugh is genuine. Arthur starts blinking, and soon he is asleep. Merlin feels a bit of the tension fading away and realizes this is his favourite thing in the world: having Arthur safe and sound. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur asks merlin if he looks fat. Merlin's answer annoys him to a great extent and he definitely doesn't like Merlin teasing him later. Notes I got this idea from the show itself (The episode where Merlin calls Arthur fat, a number of times and Arthur gets so mad about it). Of course I added my own creativity to it. I also took one particular line from the show (changing it a little bit) because it fit perfectly here. I hope you all enjoy it! “Do I look fat?” Arthur asked looking at himself. Merlin had just helped him get dressed and was busy picking up his other clothes which needed washing. Merlin looked at him squinting a little, carefully studying his physique. Arthur looked up within a second, frowning at the lack of reply. When he caught Merlin looking at him as if considering what to say he got a little furious. “Merlin!” “Nooo!” “You think I’m fat, don’t you?” Arthur gasped. “I just said no.” Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Merlin?” His voice had dropped a few octaves, he sounded authoritative. Merlin had put down his laundry basket at the bottom of the bed, picking up the socks that lay there. He stood up and gave a sheepish grin. “You should probably lay-off sweets and meat for a while.” Before Merlin knew, Arthur jumped at him, both of them falling on the bed and Merlin was pinned below Arthur. “Whoa! I was just being honest, sire.” “I’m not fat!” “The truth may be bitter, but it is the truth.” “Oh you like the truth so much? I will give you some truth.” With that Arthur pressed his lips against his, claiming his mouth. He pushed Merlin’s hands above his head and pinned them down with his own, as he kissed him hungrily, tongues licking and sucking against each other. He nipped at his bottom lip, swallowing the little moan that escaped Merlin’s mouth. Without stopping the kiss, he moved one of his hands down, the other keeping Merlin’s hands in place, and pushed it under Merlin’s shirt slowly, fingers grazing against soft skin. Soon his fingers were circling one of the nipples and he gave it a soft pinch. Merlin moaned into his mouth, which made him deepen the devouring kiss. He pulled away after a few seconds breathless. Merlin was breathing hard too, but his face quickly broke into a grin. “I do appreciate your honesty.” Merlin said with his cocky grin. “You would have appreciated a lot more, if you hadn’t called me fat!” Arthur got off Merlin and the bed, standing up straightening his clothes. Merlin was quick to get up too, the grin still on his face. “I think what I would really appreciate is if you lost a few pounds. You almost crushed my bones there.” He said lightly massaging his shoulder. Arthur glared at him and was about to pounce on him again, when Merlin ran away and out of the room. _ They were on the training grounds with the knights. Their training session was over for the day and they were having a friendly conversation before they left for their duties. Merlin had joined them too, as he always did. “Hey Merlin! Your bottom lip looks a little red and swollen.” Leon pointed out. Soon everyone noticed and looked at him questioningly. Everyone except Arthur, who seemed to have some new found interest in his helmet. Merlin glanced at him once before answering. “Oh it is the doing of a big fat bug.” Arthur’s eyes shot up at him, glaring again. “Well, it could have been poisonous or something. You should probably get it checked by Gaius.” Lancelot suggested. “Lancelot is right. Looking at the swelling and redness, it’s best to consult Gaius.” Leon said nodding his head. “Oh no! Don’t worry about it. It has bitten me before.” Merlin waved his hand. The knights looked confused and uncertain. “You should get your room fumigated then.” Leon said. “That’s the problem. It goes everywhere except my room.” He said animatedly. The knights looked at each other with even more confusion, not knowing what to say next. “Seems like this bug fancies you.” Gwaine said finally, raising an eyebrow grinning. “Maybe but it’s a little cranky at times.” Merlin looked at Arthur mischievously. “Just this morning, I called it fat and it bit me.” The other knights laughed, but Arthur did not look pleased. “You should kill it. It’s probably getting fat by sucking your blood.” “I think my blood is the last thing it would want to suck.” Merlin put a little emphasis on the last word. Before any of the knights could say anything further, he heard a very distinct voice. “Enough with the chit-chat. We should all get to work.” Arthur ordered and turned around walking away. _ Merlin walked to Arthur’s room with his dinner. They hadn’t talked or even been alone together after the training session. Arthur had been in a foul mood for most part of the day and he had either glared at him or completely avoided his gaze. Merlin expected to envision his anger again, but it wasn’t anything he was afraid of, he knew how to calm him down. Merlin opened the door and walked in to see Arthur sitting at his table, going through some papers. He looked sad, almost pouting. When he saw merlin, he frowned a little and went back to looking at the paper in his hand. Merlin set down the dinner at the dining table. “I don’t want to eat.” Arthur said without looking up. “You don’t want to eat? Since when do you not want to eat?” Arthur didn’t say anything as he continued looking at the paper. “What happened? You look upset.” Merlin was a little concerned now. He moved towards Arthur and set his hands on the table looking at him. Arthur pursed his lips. “Nothing.” Merlin peered at the paper he was looking so intently at. He sighed. “Really? Then why are you holding that upside down?” Arthur’s eyes darted between him and the paper. He turned it around, clearing his throat. “What is the matter, Arthur?” Merlin had genuine concern in his voice. “What’s the matter? You called me fat!” Arthur pouted. Merlin narrowed his eyebrows and then let out a laugh. “That’s why you are so upset?” Arthur put the paper down and crossed his arms across his chest, still pouting. “It’s not funny.” “Oh dear Lord!” Merlin got around the table and leaned against the it standing right next to him. “I was just joking.” He took one of his arm and held his hand rubbing his thumb against the back of his fingers. “Look at yourself, your arms, your legs, your back, your chest, you are all muscle.” “So, you don’t think I’m fat?” Arthur asked eyes darting up to meet his. “No, my lord.” Arthur frowned at him. Merlin realized his mistake quickly. He brought Arthur’s hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the knuckles, before correcting himself. “No, my love.” Arthur smiled and got up, moving closer to him till their bodies were aligned against each other. This time Merlin placed his lips on his, arms snaking around his neck, pulling his face closer. Arthur wrapped his arms around his waist, melting into the kiss. What started as a tender loving kiss, soon turned into a more passionate, desperate one. Clothes were being pushed up, hands meeting skin, fingers tracing muscles, soft moans escaping both their mouths. Arthur’s fingers slipped inside Merlin’s trousers and Merlin pulled back. “What about dinner?” He asked gasping for breath. Arthur smiled mischievously and whispered. “I will have you for dinner.” Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

arthur and merlin go hunting on a cold winter day...things get scary when merlin falls into a freezing river. i suck at summaries, but this is a hurt/comfort fic with merlin getting hurt and arthur helping him! Notes this was requested by a friend on tumblr!! they sent me a very detailed prompt and asked if i would be willing to write a full-fledged fic for it (i was willing LOL). the main premise is all credit to them, and i appreciate them being so chill with my little additions and writing style. it was an honor to write this for you, thank you so much for asking :') i hope you like it!! See the end of the work for more notes Merlin didn’t want to go hunting—no surprise there. He had a bad feeling about this trip, but when he told Arthur about it, he just got a scoff in return and a “Sure, Merlin. We’re leaving at dawn.” So, that brings Merlin, who was freezing in the bright winter morning, huddled near their horses, Honey and Llamrei, shivering from head to toe waiting for King Prat to come down. He would use magic to warm himself up a bit, and he would if he was going alone, but it would be too suspicious if Arthur was also going to freeze his arse off. He was told to pack for a three day trip as Arthur wanted to get away from the castle for as long as was allowed. Merlin understood the need to escape—truly, he did, but he would be more sympathetic if it wasn't in the dead of winter. Merlin sighed at the thought, wanting this to be over with. Arthur came galloping down the stairs of the castle, already giddy at the prospect of leaving the cage behind. Merlin couldn’t stop the smile forming at Arthur’s excitement. I guess I can suck it up, Merlin thought defeatedly, for Arthur. Everything is always for Arthur—and Merlin wouldn’t have it any other way. “Perk up, Merlin! This will be good, I know it,” Arthur beamed at him, taking Llamrei from him. “Of course, sire, I can’t wait to kill frozen little innocent animals,” Merlin said sweetly under his breath. Arthur rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, hopping on his horse, looking up at Leon, who was on the top step smiling at them and waving. “I trust you will take good care of my kingdom, Sir Leon,” Arthur smiled at the man who bowed deeply. “Of course, Sire,” and then Leon looked at Merlin, “Take care of our King, Merlin. Though, you never disappoint.” Merlin heard Arthur mutter under his breath, “never disappoint, pff,” but Merlin gave Leon a true smile, “Of course, Sir Leon! I know you’ll do great here.” Leon nodded at him, a small smile on his face at the praise, and went back into the warm castle. Merlin heard Arthur go towards the gate, and with one last long suffering look at the warm castle begging him to stay, he went off after his King. ~~~~~~~~~~ A few hours in and Arthur was still radiating excitement. Being away from Camelot always scared him a little, but it was necessary. Sometimes it felt too much like a dungeon with no room to breathe. But here, in the brisk, winter air, it felt like he was flying. He did feel a little bad about dragging Merlin in the cold, but he knew if he told Merlin to stay home, then he would have just followed anyway. Said man was prattling on about what patients he helped Gaius with this week, and Arthur smiled. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but having Merlin with him was always exciting. Merlin never made anything dull. Arthur didn’t want to bring the roundtable on this trip, wanting to go back to the good old days—adventuring with his best friend at his side. Arthur wanted to go to a specific clearing a few more hours away, but the journey was also part of the fun. Merlin was currently joking about what Gwaine did at training yesterday, but then they hit the river that Arthur had forgotten about. They both stopped short, staring at the frozen water. “Oh, yeah, I might have forgotten about this,”Arthur stated as innocently as he could, “I’ll cross first without my horse to see if it’s stable enough.” But as he got off his horse, Merlin beat him to it. Of course Merlin felt the need to go first, Arthur sighed internally, thinking about how Merlin always shows little to no self-preservation. He gaped at the man, who just stepped on the ice. Merlin turned around and smiled at Arthur, “See, everything will be okay. I’ll make sure it’s safe enough for us, just wait there.” Arthur reluctantly nodded, “Be careful, Merlin.” Merlin gave a small laugh, facing the other side that looked to be about twenty feet away, “Woah, Arthur. That almost sounded like you care for me, sire.” Arthur tried to smile at the attempt at humor but it fell short—especially when he could hear the ice cracking a little. Merlin makes it about halfway when he turns around to face him, “See! I knew it was strong enough, sire, you should trust me more.” Arthur let out a rough laugh, “Yeah...yeah, you’re right Merlin. Hurry up, I want to get there soon.” He meant it to sound annoyed, but it definitely came across more nervous, scared that their good luck wouldn’t last. He was right. Three more steps forwards, and Merlin fell through the ice—tumbling fast into the cold, unforgiving water without a sound. He stared numbly where Merlin just plummeted. Time felt like it slowed, everything freezing in its tracks. No, no, no, no. No. Violently, time began once more when he saw Merlin’s head bob out of the water. “MERLIN?!” Arthur took a fast step forwards, shaking with his palpable fear. He saw Merlin flick a terrified glance his way when Merlin’s frozen, wet arms started flailing on the broken ice around him—the panic obvious in his movements. Even from here, Arthur could see how shakey Merlin’s arms were, how little of his strength remained after it was sapped out of him when he fell. Slowly now, terrified that Merlin would hurt himself more, Arthur started advancing onto the ice —carefully placing his feet to balance out the cracking. Merlin, still flailing in his panic, was almost blue, his body slowly draining of any color. He tried to heave himself up once more, but failed again when holding himself used too much energy that he didn’t have. “Merlin, stop, look at me,” Merlin reluctantly listened, holding onto a piece of floating ice to stay stable, “You have to stop doing that. You’re wasting too much energy, I’m coming. Don’t worry, I’m coming.” As he said that, he didn’t, wouldn’t, break eye contact with Merlin. Arthur steadied himself, trying to emit the strength and stability Merlin needed. “Ar-Ar-tur, d-don’t,” Merlin stammered out, face draining even more. Arthur faked a scoff, “You forget I’m the king, right? You can’t order me.” Stepping slowly, Arthur reached the edge of the broken ice. “Merlin, swim to me. We’re almost there, we’re going to be fine, and you’ll be cleaning my room in no time.” Merlin obeyed and swam sluggishly towards his king. Arthur mumbled small praises the whole time, “That’s it, Merlin. You’re almost there.” Arthur uncliped his cloak and bent down at the edge of the water. When Merlin reached him, Arthur didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Merlin from under his arms and heaved him out onto the unstable ice around them—crackling at the weight. Arthur breathed a stream of curses, picking Merlin off the ground, covering him with his cloak, and ran to the horses. Once he reached Llamrei, he dropped to his knees, rolling Merlin towards him. “Merlin?! Merlin. Come on, wake up,” he hit Merlin’s blue face slightly. They were both shaking so hard that Arthur couldn’t tell if Merlin was breathing or not. Raising a shivering hand, he touched Merlin’s throat, looking for a pulse. He felt nothing. “No,” Arthur shook his head vehemently, “No, you’re not dead. I don’t allow it. No, no, no, no.” Arthur didn’t feel his tears through his frozen exterior as he started banging on Merlin’s chest. “Please, please,” Arthur rambled, “please save him, please.” He repeated it, again and again, his tears blurring his eyes, “I’ll do anything, please, no, no.” Arthur wouldn’t stop trying, and when he lifted up his fist again, a soft golden gold violently encompassed both of them. Arthur stopped, and looked at the light in shock. It felt peaceful, safe, and warm. It was so warm. He looked everywhere around them before landing on Merlin himself—a gasp escaping him. Merlin was radiating the light. Did someone answer my prayers? Arthur wondered in pure awe, putting his fingers back to Merlin’s pulse when his shaking subsided enough. He sobbed out in relief—it was there, weak but fast. He gathered Merlin in his arms, not fearing the power surrounding his servant, and put Merlin on Llamrei before he followed behind him. Grabbing Honey’s reins, he searched for a cave. They needed to recover, and Merlin needed time to heal. And Arthur needed time to figure out what just happened. It was still snowing, and Arthur growled at the sky because of it. Merlin was still unconscious laying against him, no longing glowing, and Arthur wished he would wake up—at least once. He should’ve stopped Merlin from going to sleep, he knew sleeping was never a good sign... we need Gaius, his brain added unhelpfully. First, they need shelter. Camelot was too far a journey with Merlin in this condition. That strange light saved his life for now, but Merlin was still shivering and blue. Arthur couldn’t stop replaying that scene in his head: Merlin tumbling into the frozen waters without a sound, time stopping and beginning, and that light that saved their lives—Merlin’s light. He was terrified when he realized that Merlin might not make the night. But that wouldn’t happen...he wouldn’t let it happen. Never—not on his watch. After what felt like hours, he found a cave large enough for the four of them, and he raced towards it. Quickly, he built a fire inside—rather difficult when everything is soaked, but he managed to find some dry wood—placing Merlin directly next to it, then he made sure the horses were comfortable enough for the long night before he returned to Merlin. The man in question was still soaking wet, and Arthur frowned at Merlin’s shaking. Deciding that he would be warm enough quickly by the fire, he took off Merlin’s shirt and the cloak wrapped around him, placing them on the other side of the fire to dry, and gave Merlin his own shirt—the quality much better than the strings holding together Merlin’s shirt. I’ll buy him better clothes, Arthur thought grimly, he should have warmer clothes. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting how little Merlin spends on himself, and he stared at the shivering man, who was turning less blue every second. The light replayed in his head, and without the adrenaline and panic flooding his system, he truly thought about it. And it stopped him dead. Magic. That was obviously magic. He couldn’t help but back away from Merlin, years of lessons at the forefront of his mind. No, Merlin couldn’t have magic. Magic was evil, wasn’t it? He wasn’t so sure, especially not now. What he felt, it wasn’t cruel, or menacing, or dangerous. It was pure, warm, and light—similar to the light that led him out the cave all those years ago. It felt like a hug from someone you love dearly. This went against everything his father taught him, but then again, don’t I already think magic isn’t wholly evil? He pondered that thought with a small frown. Before the purge, magic was used to heal—Gaius being the prime example—and used to grow crops and help others. But, it was also used to aid in people’s greed, for fighting, for gaining the upper hand...but didn’t swords do that, too? A tool to be used by those who knew how to wield it, and in the wrong hands, it leads to destruction—no different than someone who masters a sword with expert skill and ability. That Dragonlord was magic as well, Arthur thought back to that adventure focusing on how distraught Merlin was when the man died. Maybe they had a connection through their magic? But that brought the thoughts back to the man in front of him. How long has he practiced magic right under Arthur’s nose? For what purpose? Merlin isn’t evil, but why lie to me? And that’s what hurts the most. The lying. Arthur thought they told each other everything. Merlin was his brother in everything except blood—they were stronger together, always. Arthur knew Merlin kept secrets, especially by the way Merlin’s moods would drastically shift one day to the next. Arthur knew that Merlin was hiding something, but why did it feel so bad? Thinking back on their adventures, Arthur could clearly see now that Merlin had magic. The branch that would accidentally hit the bandit behind Arthur’s back when he wasn’t looking, the creatures that can only be killed by magic dying unexpectedly, the way Arthur sometimes healed faster than he thought was possible. All things that aided Arthur. His mind suddenly flashed the scene in his head of him almost killing his father after finding out what his father did to his mother, and to magic users, and Arthur paused this time on Merlin. Merlin didn’t deny the vision of his mother during the long journey back...he almost seemed saddened by the whole thing, taking it to heart. But the minute Arthur was going to kill Uther, Merlin was the one to stop him. Merlin, who has magic, stopped Arthur from killing the man who spent his reign committing a genocide of a whole group of people—Merlin’s people. He did it for Arthur, he had to—just like everything else Merlin did and continues to do. That confused Arthur even more, if he was being honest. Why protect the son of the King who murdered innocent people for a decade? What does Merlin get from that? As if Merlin could feel Arthur’s inner turmoil, he groaned and tried to open his eyes. Blearily, he managed to open them and he stared at Arthur, a confused look adorning his features. He tried to sit up, but failed miserably, groaning from the exertion. Arthur rushed to him, placing his hand on Merlin’s, helping him sit up more, “Stop moving, you dollophead.” Merlin didn’t retort back, making Arthur frown again, and asked, his voice gruff with pain, “Ar- Arthur. What happened?” Arthur leaned slightly away from Merlin, sitting on his heels facing the fire still burning brightly, “You fell in the water, and I got you out.” “Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin breathed, eyes filled with nothing but gratitude, but then, at the thick silence, he narrowed his eyes at the king, “That’s not all, is it?” Arthur, still watching the flames, answered quietly, “No.” Merlin’s breathing went into short, fast puffs, and he eyed Arthur’s sword at his side, moving back from Arthur as nonchalantly as he could, “No?” Arthur missed nothing. He saw the panic, the pure, unadulterated fear flooding through Merlin— almost a tangible thing in the air. Arthur sucked in a quick breath when he realized that Merlin thought Arthur would kill him. Arthur threw his sword to the other side of the cave, and put his hands towards Merlin like a wild animal being tamed. “Merlin. Merlin, look at me,” Merlin, whose tears were already falling, did so slowly, “I would never hurt you. I promise.” He heard Merlin’s breathing hitch, but he continued, “I don’t know why or how, but you saved us from dying out there. When I brought you back to land, we were both shivering so bad that I couldn’t even check your pulse. We were going to die, but we didn’t. You...you emitted this golden glow, and it felt like you. So you, Merlin. It felt familiar, warm, and safe. I’ve never felt safer.” Merlin’s eyes never left Arthur’s, and Merlin sobbed once more, and stuttered out, “Arthur, I’m so, so sorry.” Arthur started shaking his head, but Merlin plowed on, “I was born like this. I was able to do m- magic longer than I knew how to walk. I-I wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn’t know h-how you would react. For a while I thought you would kill me, but then I thought y-you would send me away. But I need to protect you, to save you, to serve you. It was the reason I was put onto the Earth. My magic is yours, Arthur, only yours—as it always has been.” Arthur was speechless, staring at Merlin like he was a puzzle that was just solved. “I believe you,” Arthur said softly, moved beyond comprehension. They had a connection, Arthur already knew this, but to this degree? To this loyalty? Arthur smiled at Merlin, “I don’t know why you place such loyalty in me, but, thank you Merlin. For protecting me.” Merlin gave Arthur a small nod, still crying softly. Arthur saw Merlin look down, with his face going red in embarrassment at what he saw. “Arthur, you shouldn’t have,” Merlin said gently, pulling on Arthur’s shirt, “I’m supposed to be saving your sorry arse, not the other way around.” Arthur scoffed, “Right. I should’ve let you, what? Drown and shiver to death...no thank you, I am a King for a reason, Mer lin. I am supposed to help the helpless.” Merlin’s face went beet red again, apparently not used to being saved. Arthur would help fix that, before Merlin ended up killing himself by his self sacrificing ways. Arthur retrieved some food that was packed in their bags and came back to Merlin, who refused at first at being served, but then he obliged after Arthur didn’t move. “You know, Merlin,” Arthur started, still feeding them both, “getting help every once and awhile is a good thing. It’s okay to ask for help when you need it. No one should go through life alone— especially when there are people willing to be there for you.” Merlin, still shaking from the fall, looked up at Arthur, “Yeah?” Arthur sat back, next to Merlin, again looking at the fire, “Yeah. You scared me pretty badly out there Merlin. I thought I lost you.” Merlin slouched inwards, upset at himself as well, but didn’t respond. Arthur knew that Merlin knew that he (Merlin) had reckless tendencies, that he threw himself at danger all the time without any self preservation—they’ve talked about it before, actually. Instead of addressing his continued self-sacrificing actions, he squared his shoulders and looked at Arthur, “Thank you again, Arthur. You saved my life today, and I will never forget it. It was also dangerous for you to go on the ice to get me, but you did it anyways. So, thank you, and,” he added softly, “thank you for not hating me.” Arthur smiled at him and gave him a small nod, “Well, someone had to save your sorry arse from dying, and Honey wasn’t about to jump in the river to save you...and,” he paused slightly, tilting his head, “I don’t think I could ever hate you.” Merlin tried to smile but he coughed and moaned a bit in pain, and Arthur rushed back to his side. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Arthur asks, nerves spiking through him. Merlin just shook his head and gave Arthur a warm smile before quickly falling asleep again. ~~~~~~~~~~ Merlin woke up feeling better than he has in a long time. When his magic reacted to his fall, it healed him almost all the way. And throughout the night, his magic slowly knitted him back together. He couldn’t believe Arthur knew about his magic and didn’t hate him for it, and he didn’t banish him, or kill him. Arthur even looked at him the same way, not fearing Merlin or thinking him weak in this state. Merlin hated being helpless, but Arthur was right. It’s okay to get help when you need it, but Merlin needed to work on believing it more—especially since Arthur now knows about his magic, he should probably talk to the king now before secretly stopping someone evil, he mused. Merlin smiled at the thought and looked down to see the King’s shirt still on him, with Arthur shirtless snuggling by the fire. Merlin quickly took it off, missing the nice tunic immediately, and spelled the shirt to be warm and fresh for Arthur once he woke up. Merlin slowly walked to the firepit, picked up his shirt that was now thankfully dry, and put it back on. Arthur woke up with a groan, rubbing his eyes tiredly, but shot up when he saw Merlin cleaning up. “What are you doing? How are you feeling? You should’ve kept my shirt, it would keep you warmer than yours.” Merlin smiled at the rambling, and answered perkily, “I am cleaning up, I feel good, thanks to you, and it’s okay, sire. My shirt was nice and warm this morning.” Arthur narrowed his eyes but nodded, and after a quick breakfast, they took care of the horses and rode off towards Camelot. After a few minutes in comfortable silence, Merlin, with a curious look on his face, asked quietly in the slightly warming morning, “Everything is going to change now, won’t it?” Arthur gave Merlin a true smile—a smile that had even destiny singing in the distance: “Yes, but I think it’s time for some change, don’t you think?” End Notes THANK YOU FOR READING!! i know, i know, this is my second fic in such a short time--isn't that crazy?? lmfaoo i hope you enjoyed this!! if you wanna request a prompt, like i did here, i would love to hear it on tumblr (@bellamyblakru). thank you again for reading, i appreciate you all so much (also, title from jatp's song bright bc i cant stop listening to their music) Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Happens sometime during s01ep05, not very timeline-y compliant with the episode, but it could have happened some time during it. Arthur wants to know why Merlin wants so badly for Lancelot to be a knight (And can't help but compare him to himself) Notes See the end of the work for notes "Why are you so keen on helping this Lancelot fellow!" Arthur said, storming into his chamber with Merlin. "He's a good man, and a better soldier! The rule is unjust Arthur!" "So be it, but it's the rule! You must have greater motivation Merlin." "He deserves it! You dueled him yourself, you know his skill." "Certainly he is skilled, but he cannot be a knight!" "Change the rule then! He is fit, he is skilled, he is young, he is loyal, he's strong, he desires to serve you, he has all the qualities a knight must bear!" Arthur chuckled darkly and paused momentarily. "I know what this is." Merlin stood his ground, waiting for Arthur's statement. "You fancy him." Arthur turned to Merlin, his eyes hard and piercing. Merlin felt taken aback and he looked it. "Certainly he is attractive but I do not fancy him!" "Why not? Why shouldn't you?" Arthur stepped closer to Merlin, backing him against the wall. "He is young, certainly handsome, I'm sure he'd be a good man to you." "I do not fancy him! I only think he deserves knighthood, I have no other motive." Arthur was ever closer, his feet only a step away from Merlin. "You should fancy him Merlin. He'd honor you I am sure, though his skillwork is well, certainly below mine. He is fit, attractive, though I am more so. His loyalty leaves nothing to be desired, but do you think he'd be a good lie?" Arthur closed in on Merlin, the dark haired boy pressed tight against the wall, face flushed. "Perhaps, but I don't care!" "His stamina is quite sure, I'm positive. No match for mine however." Merlin's face scrunched at that, and he turned his face to meet Arthur's eyes more directly. "What's this all about anyway?" "We're talking about Lancelot." "No, we're talking about why I should be with Lancelot." Arthur face contorted in confusion, a glimpse of anxiety passing over his face. "And, you keep comparing him to you. Why are you doing that Arthur? You couldn't be jealous could you?" "Certainly not!" Arthur snorted, but his tone was clearly lacking in truth. "Why would I care if a man caught your eye." Merlin quirked an eyebrow. "You tell me." "Tell you what?" Arthur said, crossing his arms over his chest, both a position to make him appear at ease, and also defensive. "Tell me why you would care if another man caught my eye." "I wouldn't! Has he?" "No! And I think you would. I don't want to jump to conclusions here, so I think it would be better for you to tell me yourself." Merlin was close to Arthur now, their eyes searching each other's. Arthur opened his mouth, closed it again, and then stuttered out a few unintelligible sounds. Merlin looked at him intently, searching his face and suddenly Arthur looked him in the eye, and drew him close to himself, locking their lips in a soft, but assured kiss. They broke apart, and Arthur breathed in, trying to look confident in his actions but clearly unsure of himself. Merlin gasped, and then grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. Merlin stepped closer to Arthur again, and the two locked gazes, before Merlin tilted his head pressing another gentle kiss to Arthur's lips. It devolved from there, and an hour later the two were swollen lipped and rosy faced. "Were you jealous then?" "Well, I mean, er'," Merlin laughed as Arthur tried to duck the question. "Were you truly interested in him Merlin?" Merlin's face softened, replying with, "Never Arthur. It's you, and always has been." Arthur reached a hand out to Merlin's cheek, and gently tilted his face towards him, drawing his lips in for another sweet kiss. End Notes I think we should just agree that I'm never getting around to day 10 of the month of prompts... anyway, comments/kudos appreciated! -L Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin didn’t know how Vortigern had found him. No, that was a lie, he knew the warlord was there to negotiate with Arthur. Finding Merlin was easy once there was that starting point. Never, Merlin mused, had he ever regretted telling about those dragons more than while he was pressed against the wall with Vortigern’s arm on his throat and threats in his ear. Notes prompt: No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused Merlin didn’t know how Vortigern had found him. No, that was a lie, he knew the warlord was there to negotiate with Arthur. Finding Merlin was easy once there was that starting point. Never, Merlin mused, had he ever regretted telling about those dragons more than while he was pressed against the wall with Vortigern’s arm on his throat and threats in his ear. “Don’t worry, boy,” Vortigern was saying, “I know your little secret—you do what I say and we won’t have a problem, won’t we?” “We won’t.” Merlin found himself agreeing. He could’ve cursed himself, all those years where he hadn’t even thought of the man, all for nothing as he caved at the first hint of his magic being exposed. Merlin avoided everyone after that, Gaius had noticed the bruising on his throat and Merlin had made up something that he didn’t remember. Arthur had noticed, coming down to Gaius’ chambers to ask about the servant’s whereabouts. Gaius had lied, explaining that Merlin was sick and Arthur would have to ask a different servant. It wasn’t entirely a lie, Merlin had worked himself into such a state over the worry and fear that Gaius had ordered bed-rest on him until he was more stable on his feet. Merlin didn’t know when Vortigern would leave, nor did he know what Vortigern would force Merlin to do now that he had blackmail. All Merlin was sure of was that Vortigern hadn’t forgotten the prophecies Merlin had given, and the elder was still smarting over the destruction of his castle. Vortigern did, however, believe that Merlin’s name was Myrddin. There wasn’t much Merlin could do about the situation, except to avoid Vortigern and advise Arthur on the situation with backhand comments. Arthur who kept trying to ask about where he had been. Merlin dodged the questions with the expertise of one who dodged questions to live. Finally, Arthur just straight up asked. “Merlin!” He’d called after he’d given up probing for answers, “I forbid you from dodging the question; where were you and why did you leave?” “Sire!” Merlin just answered he didn’t know what to say, “I can’t… tell you.” “Why not?” “Because—” Merlin paused, they were alone, and Merlin didn’t have much to lose from telling a partial truth. “—he’ll kill me.” Arthur stood abruptly, there was nothing but fury in his expression; Arthur was a clear-cut person, zero to sixty in an instant, and a threat to his friends was a threat to him. “Tell me his name,” Arthur ordered, there was no exceptions in his tone, just instant finality. If Merlin said Vortigern’s name, Arthur would kill him. “I can’t,” Merlin started, and when it looked like Arthur would interrupt, he rushed the next words, “You would kill him and then you would get yourself into a situation you can’t get out of.” “I won’t kill whoever it is,” Arthur promised, but his eyes still spoke of murder. Merlin just shook his head and focused on his work. It was effectively a dismissal, and Arthur didn’t do well with dismissals. “Merlin!” Arthur called; when Merlin turned his attention on Arthur, the other man continued, “I won’t kill whoever threatened you, I will instead keep an eye on him and try to catch him doing something illegal, then legally, I can kill him. Tell me who threatened you.” Merlin just stood there, his desire to be seen warring with his fear of being known. Arthur waited, patient and kind, for Merlin to make the final decision. “Vortigern.” Arthur was furious. Merlin had been right, he desperately wanted to kill the warlord, but Vortigern was a guest—to kill him would effectively be treason. True to his word, Arthur watched Vortigern carefully, every move the man made Arthur knew of. There was nothing Vortigern did that Arthur wasn’t aware of. Which meant, that Arthur was completely sure that Vortigern had some sort of blackmail material against his servant. What that blackmail was, Arthur didn’t know. He was sure that it was something serious if the way Merlin flinched away from the warlord, yet still completed his every whim, was any indication. It was a few weeks after Merlin had told him when Arthur had a meeting with Vortigern scheduled. Merlin was nowhere to be found so Arthur arrived at the meeting with a heavy heart and sinking hopes. “Your highness,” Vortigern said, voice silky and yet just harsh enough to set Arthur’s teeth on edge. “Warlord Vortigern,” Arthur replied, carefully keeping the hatred out of his voice. “I have some information that might please you,” Vortigern continued, “it has taken some time to be sure, but I believe I have located where the sorcerer who was responsible for my castle’s collapse is.” All the information that Arthur had gathered was blinking red warning signs in his face. Very carefully he said, “Oh?” “Yes,” Vortigern said, “the true identity of the sorcerer Myrddin—” Arthur’s mind supplied the name Merlin , but he didn’t want to hear it. “—is none other than your manservant, Merlin.” Arthur’s mind blanked at the outright confirmation. Vortigern sat there, a proud wielder of cutting truths. If Arthur hadn’t already had the thought in the back of his mind that Merlin was more than he seemed, Merlin’s life would be eligible for forfeit. Suddenly, Arthur realised that Merlin had never outright said who would kill him, instead, Arthur had asked who threatened Merlin, not who would kill him. Arthur considered this and every situation that suddenly made so much more sense, and said, “So?” This stumped Vortigern. The warlord sat there, clearly expecting Arthur to order the death of his manservant, not simply accept the claims and move on. “I just told you your servant has been committing treason under your nose! You should be furious!” “Merlin hasn’t been committing any treason,” Arthur lied, “He has done everything on my orders and with my permission.” “Magic is punishable by death.” “Oh?” Arthur asked, thinking fast, “Haven’t you heard?” A few meaningless arguments later, Arthur was back at his desk hastily drafting a legislation and law changes. Two hours later he burst into the library and told Geoffrey to get those laws processed immediately, they should have been done yesterday. Vortigern had clearly gone straight to checking the laws, and having not found what he was looking for, had come right back to confront Arthur. “The law still states that magic is punishable by death.” Arthur made a face of confusion and gestured for Vortigern to follow him. He led the warlord down to the library and very calmly asked Geoffrey where the latest laws on magic were. Geoffrey raised an eyebrow, judging Arthur’s decision-making. Arthur ignored the judgement and found the papers he had written and had processed less than an hour ago. “Here,” he said calmly, “the law states that all practice of magic and Old Religion is legal, and Sorcerers and magical creatures will be held to the same standards as those without magic.” Arthur levelled a harsh glare towards Vortigern. “That means,” he said forcefully, “that you have to release my manservant.” Vortigern’s face darkened and Arthur just stood there with a pleasant expression. The warlord marched off in a huff, and all the fight drained from Arthur. He didn’t know how exhausted, nor how worried, he had been until the situation had been resolved. Merlin was released from Vortigern’s rooms where he had been chained with cold iron. The burns from the irons were painful and required medical attention, but he ignored them in favour of finding Arthur. He burst into the king’s chambers mind on only seeing if Arthur was alright. He’d been so sure that the only way he was getting out of this was in death, but then Vortigern had released him with several minutes of swearing. Arthur was at his desk, papers were strewn everywhere, and yet when Merlin burst in he ignored the mess and lunged. Merlin flinched, bringing his hands up in a vain attempt to stop Arthur, but the king just gripped Merlin tight in a back-breaking hug. “Don’t ever do that again,” Arthur ordered, “you hear me? Don’t you ever do that again! I don’t care if you have to use your magic, but don’t you ever leave me alone again.” At the words, ‘your magic’ Merlin went very still, Arthur, noticing this, just handed him one of the several pieces of paper. The words magic and legal jumped out at him and Merlin’s mind shut down. He couldn’t handle the sudden rush of relief and the absence of fear that spread through him. Arthur held him as he sobbed, and once the tears had run dry, Arthur released him. “Merlin,” he said cautiously, “will you be my court sorcerer?” Merlin’s eyes shone with fresh tears, “warlock, not sorcerer, and you’ve got yourself a deal.” Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work! Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur and Merlin wake Gaius. They're absolutely terrible liars. The homophobia is mostly implied, nothing outright. "Merlin?" Arthur hissed out, as he leaned into a crevice in the wall. "Arthur! Finally." The dark haired boy popped out from his hiding place, bringing a relieved sigh from Arthur. "I was held up. My father." Merlin nodded in understanding and the two slipped into the dark. Minutes later Merlin was pressed back against the stone wall, hips held down by Arthur's hand. The blonde boy nipped gently at Merlin's neck, murmuring into his ear. "Missed you." Merlin sighed into the touch of Arthur's lips, and the blonde brought his head up, bringing his lips to Merlin's. The two pressed together, Merlin tugging his lover close. Several minutes later, the two broke apart, chests heaving and lips swollen. Merlin grinned up at Arthur, who returned the look. Arthur took Merlin by the hand and the two slipped quietly up to Merlin's room. As soon as the door shut Arthur was pulling Merlin close again, seeking any touch. The blonde pushed Merlin back slightly, falling onto the bed. Merlin laughed, then clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes twinkling. Arthur snorted, but the two quickly became involved in each other's touch once again. Arthur lay on top of Merlin, cradling the dark haired boy's face in his hand, and kissing the life out of him. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, pulling him closer. Arthur slid one hand away from Merlin's face, and slowly slid it under the fabric of Merlin's shirt, his hand resting on Merlin's stomach, a gentle warmth. Arthur's lips traveled down Merlin's neck, the smaller boy moaning quietly and the sensation. Arthur rested his other hand on Merlin's chest, and then whispered out a rough, "Off." Merlin sat up, tugging the shirt over his shoulders, before laying back down, a blush spreading down his neck to his chest. Arthur smirked at him, then re-connected their lips briefly, his mouth traveling slowly across Merlin's torso, teasing his nipples gently, slowly, before traveling down further. He teased Merlin a bit, tracing patterns across Merlin's stomach, knowing he was ticklish. "Arthur!" Merlin hissed, his stomach tensing in protest. Merlin shoved at Arthur's head lightly, teasingly, but Arthur got off Merlin entirely. "Oh, you want me off then?" He smirked, and Merlin groaned. "No, I don't." "You sure? You really seemed like you didn't there." His tone was teasing, and Merlin replied with, "I don't want you tickling me, but I want you...there..." "Where?" "/There/. Arthur, you know what I mean!" "I wanna hear you say it." Arthur said, murmuring into his ear, as he lowered his body back down onto Merlin's. Merlin rolled his eyes, but muttered out, "I want you on my cock." Arthur laughed, low in his throat. "Perfect." The blonde slid back down to Merlin's stomach, and after pressing a kiss to his belly button and getting a threatening glare from Merlin he went lower. Arthur grabbed at Merlin's trousers, sliding them off his legs. His head went down, and Merlin's back arched. ------- Sometime later Arthur lay on Merlins chest, both boys sweaty, their bare skin rosy from their activities. They lay in silence, snuggled into each other, their legs entwined, candlelight flickering on them. Merlin slid his hand onto Arthur's cheek, tilting the blonde's head so their eyes met. "Hmm?" Arthur mumbled sleepily. "I love you." Arthur smiled, his eyes close to shutting. "Love you too Mer." Suddenly, the door opened, showing the shocked face of Gaius. "Excuse me?!" The two jumped, Merlin trying to stutter out an excuse. "Um, uh, I was jus- I mean, we were just-" Arthur interuppted. "We were just hot." Merlin glared at him when Gaius glanced away, to which Arthur raised his eyebrows, with an expression saying, 'what else could I say.' "You were hot then." Gaius said, clearly unbelieving, "Why were you here in the first place then your Majesty? In Merlin's bed of all places." "Well, um," Now it was Arthur's turn to sputter. "He had a disagreement with his father, and needed some place to cool off. We got tired." Merlin offered. Gaius raised an eyebrow, and then sighed. "I'm sure you could return to your room without confrontation from your father now my lord." "Certainly." Arthur glanced at the door, knowing he was still undressed. "I'll leave in a moment." Arthur nodded at Gaius, who sighed and left the room, but not before giving Merlin a Look. As soon as the door shut, Arthur scrambled for his clothes, as did Merlin. "Hey," Arthur said, catching sight of Merlin's fearful face. "We'll be okay. I can see to that." Merlin nodded, and Arthur brushed his cheek softly with his hand, then leaned in for a quick, very quick kiss. The two went downstairs, and after bidding Gaius goodnight, Arthur was on his way. Merlin avoided the old man's eyes, and tried to walk quietly to his room, but Gaius stopped him. "So. Are you going to explain?" "I thought we already had." Gaius sighed, and sat down. "Merlin. I'm not stupid. Besides the fact that both of your clothes were strewn about the floor and your bodies are both strewn with kissbruises, you are both terrible, terrible, liars." Merlin let out a gust of air, and sat down, his face in his hand. After a moment he raised his head, meeting Gaius's eyes. "I'm sorry." "Do you love him?" "What?" "I asked you if you love him. Do you?" "Yes." Merlin whispered, eyes on the floor now. "And he you?" "Yes." "How long?" "Less than a year. Eight months, in two weeks." "Well. Invite him here tommorow, I just talk with him." Merlin looked up, wary. "Why?" "I'm your guardian, I have to approve of him. He may be the kings son, but that doesn't mean he gets to hurt my ward." Gaius looked down at Merlin kindly, whose face clearly showed his shock. "You aren't going to kick me out? Or report us?" "No, I'm not Merlin. I care for you, if Arthur is who makes you happy then so be it. Doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on him tommorow though." He said with a wink. "Thank you." Merlin said, still somewhat dazed. "Of course." Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

When Arthur is completely outnumbered against a sorcerer, Merlin knows he has to reveal himself. It doesn't go as well as it could. Notes Whumptober Combo of days 12, 15, 16 and 17 broken trust • magical healing • forced to beg • dirty secret the forced to beg one is a bit of a stretch but uhhh whatever See the end of the work for more notes Merlin knew he would have to reveal his magic eventually, he just didn't realize it would be today. Arthur had been feeling tense and decided to go hunting with just Merlin. This obviously meant he was not hunting, but simply riding around to relax with his best friend. That it is until a rogue sorcerer and their henchmen came upon them. Arthur was gotten hit almost immediately, being severely out numbered. Arthur continued trying to fight, despite his wound. Merlin knew he'd have to do something, and he knew there was no way to hide. "Arthur get back!" Arthur stepped back, thinking Merlin had seen someone sneaking up on him, only to curiously look back to Merlin. Before anyone could get the Arthur again, Merlin shot out a spell, flinging them all back. The sorcerer smirked and stepped forward, his henchmen out of commission. Arthur watched in shock, mind reeling. He stepped backward until he hit a tree, slumping against it and clutching his wound. "A sorcerer protecting a Pendragon? Now, this is interesting!" The sorcerer started. "Shut up," Merlin snapped. Arthur needed medical attention quickly and Merlin knew he could not waste time with monologue. Merlin hastily spoke a spell, kneeling to the ground and splaying his palm against it on the least word. The ground rumbled and the sorcerer stepped back in shock. Roots spread up from the ground and wrapped around him, holding him hostage. The sorcerer looked up panicked as the branches entwined tighter around him. "You're Emr-" "Hush," Merlin spoke darkly as his eyes shone a fulgent gold. The sorcerer lost his voice immediately. Merlin quickly turned to Arthur, dropping down to his side. Arthur let out a noise of protest, making to get away from Merlin. "You lied to me," Arthur said in disbelief "I'm sorry," Merlin put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. He winced as Arthur flinched away from his touch. "I need to see your wound," Merlin stated before lifting Arthur's tunic. Merlin winced at the oozing blood. He took a breath and put a hand to the wound. He closed his eyes, examining the wound with his magic. A major artery had been hit, it would be fatal. Merlin would not accept that. His expression turned determined as he whispered a few spells, clearing the blood and healing the wound. Merlin slowly opened his eyes again. Arthur merely stared at him with hurt in his eyes. "You've betrayed me," Arthur stated with growing anger, hand going to his sword. Merlin shook his head. "No, Arthur. I'm sorry, please don't kill me," Merlin whimpered. "Why didn't you kill me?" Arthur asked with disbelief. "Because you're my friend." A tense silence hanged over them. "But you're a sorcerer," Arthur furrowed his brows and held his sword tighter. "There is no evil in magic, only in the hearts of men," Merlin spoke with tearful eyes. Another tense silence. "Please don't kill me, sire," Merlin added. Arthur sighed and loosened his grip.in the sword. He turned around to see the sorcerer Merlin had entangled with branches. "Let him go." Merlin stood and wordlessly retracted the wood and roots back into the ground. The sorcerer stumbled to the ground. "Leave. If you try to attack anyone in Camelot again, I will know," Merlin threatened. Despite Merlin's tearful eyes, the sorcerer nodded in fear and scurried off. He turned back to Arthur. "Do not speak a word of this to anyone. We will talk later," Arthur spoke coldly, back to Merlin as he walked up to his horse. Merlin nodded, despite knowing Arthur could not see him. "Yes, sire," He added meekly. The ride back was tense and Merlin felt his heart aching. Arthur would never trust him again. End Notes wow I really don't like this one. uh chow anyways... ❤ ️ comments and kudos appreciated ❤ ️ Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur is dying. Merlin refuses to let this happen. The old religion has rules, it's always been life for a life, hasn't it? Notes um I've given up doing these in order obviously. Whumptober Day 9 take me instead | run | ritual sacrifice See the end of the work for more notes "Thank you." "Arthur," Merlin croaked. "Arthur!" Merlin sobbed. Arthur came back too for a mere second before leaving again. Merlin sobbed, heart shattering. "Please. We're so close. Just-" Merlin begged to no one. He screamed in anguish and looked to the heavens. "Take me instead! I beg of you!" Merlin pleaded to the clouds. "Please," He ended in a broken whisper. A heavy silence hung over him, the only sounds being his stuttered breathing and sobs. A breeze smelling of chrysanthemums and daffodils. Movement. "Merlin?" Arthur looked up at him confused. "Arthur!" Merlin cried and threw his arms around him. Arthur returned the hug, slowly sitting all the way up. He pulled away slowly. "How?" Arthur felt no wound and his skin had returned to it's natural color. All confusion left when he finally took a good look at Merlin. His heart dropped. "No." Merlin wiped away his tears and emptily laughed. Merlin was sickly pale and looked to be getting drained of his life by the second. "It's okay, Arthur. You're alive. I know you will bring the golden age without me," Merlin squeezed his hand. "No," Arthur repeated with more force, eyes watering. "The lake, Avalon. There has to be- they can help-" "No, Arthur. There is nothing-" Merlin stopped to take in a heavy breath, Arthur bringing another arm up to support him. "There is nothing that can be done." "Merlin, no, use your magic, you have to try," Arthur pleaded. "Let's just," Merlin took another shakey breath, "stay here." Arthur pulled Merlin into him, embracing him tightly. Merlin's head rested on his shoulder, his hands weakly laid across Arthur's chest. Arthur ran his hand through Merlin's hair as his breathing grew shallow. "Merlin," Arthur breathed, putting his forehead against Merlin's. Merlin winced in pain as he brought a hand up to Arthur's hair. "Stay," Merlin murmured before his body became slack. Arthur sobbed and pulled him closer. And just like that, one side of the coin was eroded away. End Notes :') Have I published saying I've changed my username? I think so but here it is again just in case you're confused lol Oh the title is a line from one of my favorite songs: Boreas by The Oh Hellos ❤ ️ comments and kudos appreciated ❤ ️ Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur isn't doing as good as he says he is. “Arthur, you slowpoke, come on!” Merlin called from up ahead on his horse. His name calling earned a few laughs from the knights. Merlin smiled, proud of the joke. “Yeah, princess, you’ve been quite sluggish since the bandits,” Gwaine added, although he was less teasing than Merlin. There was a hint of concern in his voice, and he stopped his horse to give Arthur his full attention. The rest of the knights and Merlin followed his lead. Merlin stopped smiling and tilted his head. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Arthur was not alright. He’d sustained an injury to the right side of his chest when a group of bandits had attacked them. It wasn’t bad at first, but as time went on, the wound stung more and more and he grew exhausted, maybe from the blood loss. He wasn’t going to show his weakness, though. As the king, he had to set a certain example for his knights. He had to be strong and keep going no matter what. With a smile plastered on his face, Arthur responded, “Yes, I’m just a little tired after the day's events.” Gwaine didn’t look entirely convinced, but he shrugged, then flicked the reins of his horse and continued on. Merlin hung back this time and trotted at Arthur’s side. “You know,” he started, “If anything really is wrong, you can tell me.” Arthur scoffed. “My job is to protect and serve you, Arthur, not judge you.” “Are you saying you don’t judge me?” Arthur asked with as much humor in his voice as he could muster. Merlin laughed, “Well, that part of the sentence may not be the most accurate, but the rest is.” Arthur nodded. His grip on the reins was starting to slacken and he was even more weary. “Thank you Merlin, but I’m fine, really. The worried look on Merlin’ face was the last thing he saw before he felt himself slipping off his horse and hitting the ground. “Arthur?” Merlin’s voice was echoing. What was going on? Were they in a cave? Merlin repeated, “Hey, Arthur?” His voice was becoming more clear. Arthur groaned, and blearily opened his eyes, then took in his surroundings. He was lying in his bed in the chambers, his shirt gone and chest bandaged. He felt much better, the injury hardly even seemed to be bleeding. Looking at the wrappings, it must’ve been the work of Gaius, but when had they gotten back to Camelot? Merlin sat beside Arthur on the bed with a damp cloth in his hands, and his face lit up when he saw that Arthur was awake. He breathed out a sigh of relief, then said mockingly, “ I’m fine, really .” “Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur responded with fondness. Merlin let out a chuckle and dabbed Arthur’s forehead with the cloth. “You know, you really had me scared there for a second. You fell right off your horse, and I didn’t know if you were going to get back up.” “You were worried about me?” “I always am.” Arthur blushed, then he reached up and took the cloth out of Merlin’s hand and discarded it off to the side. Merlin started to protest, but cut himself off when Arthur intertwined their fingers. They smiled at each other shyly. “Thank you, Merlin.” Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

fall photo collection Notes for some reason autumn is not my favorite season but this year has been different and I wanted to put merlin and arthur in the typical couple photos + the most obvious halloween costumes for them I used pinterest references for some of the drawings I really hope you like it :) (photo 1) merlin and arthur playing with pumpkins (the pumpkins won) (photo 2) arthur carrying merlin and a pumpkin (and his dignity) (photo 3) merlin and arthur enjoying the view and a cup of hot chocolate (photo 4) merlin (and arthur) drinking hot chocolate in a roadside restaurant (photo 5) merlin acting mysterious (cute) behind a leaf (photo 6) merlin and arthur in their everyday casual clothes (halloween costumes) Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

It is just a football match, but Arthur ends in the hospital anyway. Notes Written for Whumptober prompt nº 29: emergency room. For Sunfall_of_Ennien, though I don't know you, you're kind words have encouraged me to keep writing. I hope you like it. There was a blue car in the parking. Merlin knew because that was the last thing he saw before it happened. Merlin did not know why he kept coming to these things. He hated waking up early on a Saturday. It was his day for resting after a long week. And for some reason, football matches had to be incredibly early on a Saturday morning. And then, there was the fact that Merlin did not like football at all. But Arthur beamed so much every time Merlin went to see him play. It had been raining all night long, everything was damp, and Merlin’s seat was hard and cold. He looked at his watch. Twenty more minutes of this torment and then, they could go home. It was too late to go back to bed. But they could still spend the rest of the Saturday lazing around on the sofa. Someone behind Merlin shouted something. He couldn’t make out the words, but a part of him wanted to shout back “it’s just an amateur’s game, calm down”. Of course, Merlin remained quiet. Some people take these things with too much enthusiasm. Arthur was one of those. Because Merlin was not looking at the moment, he did not know how it happened. One moment he was sitting there, bored. And the next, Arthur was lying on the ground while the people around him shouted and the other players crowded around Arthur. It took some moments for Merlin to react. He felt paralyzed, seeing Arthur completely immobile. When someone called for an ambulance, Merlin jumped from his seat. As he approached, he saw Gwaine, one of Arthur’s fellow players, and another player from the rival team doing something to Arthur. “They’re pulling out his tongue,” Merlin thought, terrified. All the players had gathered around Arthur. Merlin ran, terrified and knelt beside Arthur. Merlin looked at Gwaine, kneeling too at his side, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "What happened,” whispered Merlin. But no one knew. “Here, that'll keep him warm.” Someone, Merlin did not know who did it, covered Arthur with a blanket. He had eyes just for Arthur. He knew that their friends were there with them, and they were reassuring him. But Merlin felt lost. “Arthur, Arthur,” Merlin called over and over, but Arthur never reacted. The ambulance came at last. As Arthur was taken inside, Merlin felt someone coming at his side. “Come on, Merlin, I’ll drive you to the hospital,” offered Gwaine. “I have to take our things,” said Merlin helplessly, but he did not move. “Lance has taken care of them. Come on.” They were the last to arrive at the hospital. All of Arthur friends were there. There was Lance, with Arthur’s bag as Gwaine had said. Leon, their goalkeeper, was the first to approach Merlin when he entered. “They wouldn’t say anything to us, but I think the ambulance has arrived already.” “Thanks. Thank you all for coming,” Merlin tried a smile, but failed. They had arrived shortly after the ambulance, and it took a while for Merlin to get information. At first, no one seemed to know anything, and it took all of Merlin willpower not to go into a panic. That would not help Arthur. But Merlin's head was full of dreadful thoughts all the same. What if it was a heart condition? Many athletes had died in the middle of a match, and they had never been diagnosed before. And Arthur had an enough stressful job to cause a seizure. With every passing minute, Merlin’s sinister thoughts just increased. Maybe it wasn’t a heart condition, but what if Arthur had damaged something in the fall? A spinal trauma. Merlin could not recall whether Arthur had been moved before the paramedics had arrived. “Here, take this.” Merlin looked, startled. He had been so lost in his head that had not noticed Gwen approaching. “Thanks.” Gwen smiled, apologetically at Merlin’s grimace, “I know it’s too sweet, but I have heard it helps somehow.” “He is going to be okay,” said Gwen after a while. And Merlin wanted to believe her. But he was so scared. By the time a nurse came to fetch him, Merlin did not know what to do with himself. He threw the empty cup on the floor and then went back to throw it in a bin, panicking when couldn’t find one. Gwen came to his rescue, once again. “How is he?” asked Merlin, already dreading the answer. “The doctor will tell you in a moment,” answered the nurse. There was good and bad news. Merlin breathed relieved when the doctor reassured him about Arthur’s health. “We have found nothing to worry about,” he said. “But because he lost consciousness for some minutes, I prefer he stays overnight, just to be sure everything is fine.” Arthur was awake when Merlin entered his room. “How mad are you?” Said Arthur and smiled apologetically. “Well, you’re lucky I’m more terrified than anything else now,” said Merlin. He went to Arthur and kissed him briefly. Now, seeing Arthur fine, all his anxiousness, worry and fear turned to something else. It was Saturday, and they were supposed to be enjoying each other’s company. Instead, they had a long night ahead of them in a hospital. “Do you have any idea how worried I was, Arthur? I had no idea what was wrong with you.” “I am sorry, Merlin.” Merlin sighed. He knew it was a lost cause. Arthur cared about football and his team of fellow amateurs too much. “I know. It’s just I’m tired of you getting hurt because of football. You’re not a kid anymore. Listen to me,” said Merlin when Arthur was about to protest. “Two months ago you sprained your ankle. You had had tendonitis at least three times. And soon after we started dating, you went under knee surgery.” “Are you calling me old?” “I’m not joking,” said Merlin. “It’s just, you could take sports a little less seriously,” he added. “I’m not that terrible,” said Arthur but stopped when Merlin glared at him. “Fine, I’ll take things more lightly in the future.” “At least you have to, now. Doctor’s orders. And you’ll have to stay the night at the hospital. What a wonderful weekend.” “Come here,” said Arthur, tugging Merlin’s arm until he was lying next to Arthur. “I promise I will make it up to you.” “You better.” Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Things Merlin would probably never know, from Arthur's POV. Notes Hello! Lil Warning- Minor Character Death (no one we particularly care about) Also, this is a retelling of Long Live the King from Arthur's POV because I'm a sucker for jealous and protective Arthur and so it probably won't make sense if you read this first. The first time Arthur saw Merlin use magic, he almost had a heart attack. His manservant, his clumsy, idiotic manservant. Using magic. In Camelot. Under his father’s rule. To remove the stain from Arthur’s white shirt. Arthur closed the door, as quietly as possible, before walking away. It took two rides to the forest, one night at the tavern, three days of ignoring Merlin, and seven broken goblets for Arthur to decide that Merlin was still his clumsy, idiotic manservant. After that, it was mostly very amusing to watch Merlin stealthy use magic. Arthur noticed that his bath water was always the perfect temperature, but now knew it was because of magic. He always wondered how the stains on his shirts always seemed to disappear but thought that it was because the laundry maids were very skilled. That too was magic. He seemed to notice more as the days went by, how the flowers in his chambers were always bright and vibrant, how his armor was impossibly strong, and how his muscle aches seemed to disappear whenever Merlin rubbed them. Watching Merlin perform small acts of magic might be the most endearing thing Arthur’s ever seen. It was funnier to watch Merlin believe that his secret was still a secret. If it was possible, Arthur knew that all these just made him adore Merlin more. Which was slightly impossible because he doesn’t adore anyone as much as Merlin. Of course, if anyone asks, Arthur would deny it until his dying breath. He loved Gwen. He knew he shouldn’t have to keep reminding himself that. When Arthur repealed the ban on magic, he expected Merlin to finally come out and put everyone out of their misery. He didn’t. And so Arthur devised a plan, with Gwen’s help of course. Merlin really needed to work on protecting his secrets. Gwen told him that no one else really knew, and Arthur felt his pride swell at that. See, Merlin? I can be observant too. His great master plan was to host a tournament and invite sorcerers from all over Camelot. Merlin tried so hard to convenience Arthur otherwise, but Arthur didn’t back down. Instead, he used this opportunity to prompt Merlin into confessing. But that idiot kept recommending Gaius instead. Of course, the plan backfired when Merlin went and fell in love with Affodill. Seriously, he couldn’t be more obvious with all that intense staring and the time they spent together. If Arthur knew that, he wouldn’t have invited a Druid. (That’s a lie, obviously. He still needed someone who knew magic to judge the competition). And to make it worse, Merlin barely spoke to Arthur during the tourney. Of course, he knew that Merlin was mad at him, but they always spent tourneys taking and commenting on the proceedings. It was just their thing. And no, he wasn’t jealous. He just felt bad for Affodill, really. But the days went by and the intense staring never stopped. Dammit, it was Arthur he was supposed to look at. And by the looks of it, those two spent a whole lot of time together. Well, at least he had something to keep his mind off of it. Darven was great at magic. Arthur barely knows anything about it, but a blind man could tell that Darven was gifted. To make things better, it looked like Merlin absolutely hated Darven. And so Arthur exploited it as much as possible. You can’t blame Arthur, Merlin looked terribly cute when he went all pouty and angry. Almost like an angry kitten which just needs to be cuddled. Maybe Merlin needed to be- No, bad thoughts. Change of plans. Making Merlin jealous was a bad idea. Now he fell harder for him if that was possible. Gwen, think of Gwen. Now that’s better. And then the world came tumbling down. Arthur was in the middle of tearing down the castle for his search for his wayward manservant when he saw Lancelot drag a limp Merlin into Gaius’s chambers. Arthur rushed into the chambers, ready to scold Merlin for drinking again. And then he saw Merlin. Like, really saw him. With bags under his eyes, pale skin now almost grey, and head rolling like a dead person’s. Arthur froze at the doorway and watched as Gaius instructed Lancelot to place Merlin on the bed. He wanted to be the one taking care of Merlin. This was stupid, really, because Arthur knew Lancelot was hopelessly in love with Gwen. A thought like that should have made Arthur angry, but he knew that his heart wasn’t Gwen’s. It hurt to think that way, but seeing Merlin look dead made him think if there was ever any doubt. “What happened?” Arthur demanded, once he finally snapped out of his internal monologue. “Not now sire, I’ll tell you once I know,” Gaius said, and Arthur should have punished him for ignoring his King, but he barely gave a damn. And so Arthur watched, and on occasion helped, as Gaius fussed over Merlin. “It’s nothing sire, he’s just pissed,” it was Lancelot who said that, and Arthur knew it wasn’t the whole truth. Arthur knew it wasn’t even close to the truth. It made Arthur wonder if Lancelot knew, but perished that thought. Merlin would have told Arthur first. “That is correct, sire. I’ll inform you once he’s fit for duty,” Gaius added, and that just confirmed his theory. There was something else they weren’t telling Arthur. “No, I’ll stay and look after him, I have nothing to do,” which was a lie, but Merlin came first, so. Gaius looked at him with a dubious expression, Lancelot mirroring it. Arthur paid no mind to either of their protests and carried Merlin’s limp figure to Merlin’s room. Arthur was highly alarmed by how little Merlin weighed. Arthur kicked the door close behind him and placed Merlin on the bed. Arthur had training that afternoon, but Leon would take care of it. For now, Arthur pulled up a chair and seated himself beside Merlin. Outside, Lancelot and Gaius were discussing in hushed voices. Arthur moved to the door as silently as possible, in hopes of getting some answers. “... Too much magic,” Gaius was whispering. Arthur burrowed his eyebrows. Was Merlin attacked? “Why would he want to use up so much magic in one go?” Lancelot whispered back. Oh. So Lancelot knew. Which meant Merlin told Lancelot before Arthur. He turned back to glare at Merlin’s sleeping figure. Arthur was too caught up in resentful staring to hear what Gaius said next but then heard Lancelot dismiss himself. Arthur sighed and made his way back to his chair. Arthur continued to glare at Merlin. Did he not trust Arthur at all? Sometime later, Arthur woke up to loud ruffling and silent grunts. Fearing the worst, Arthur jumped and inspected the room. It was dark, and Arthur doesn’t remember falling asleep. When he looked back at the bed, Merlin’s silhouette was thrashing and grunting. A nightmare , his mind supplied. Arthur went into autopilot. He pinned Merlin’s writs to the bed, straddling his waist in an attempt to stop Merlin from hurting himself. Arthur supposed that he could have just woken up Merlin in a normal way, but whatever. Merlin relaxed a bit, but then resumed thrashing a second later. This time, he was screaming and kicking, with an intent to hurt. “Merlin, Merlin stop,” Arthur said, in an attempt to calm him down. “It’s Arthur, stop kicking you moron,” it seemed to work, because Merlin went lax under his weight, sighing in relief. Something about this made Arthur’s body flare-up but trampled down the feeling. “What,” Merlin crooked out, and Arthur didn’t like the way Merlin’s voice sounded. “Water,” Merlin demanded, and Arthur immediately obliged. Arthur filled the glass and lit a candle while he was at it. Merlin gulped down every last drop and returned it to Arthur. “So care to explain?” Arthur asked once he was finally seated. He hoped Merlin would tell him the truth now. Why did Merlin need to use that much magic? “I was.. drunk,” Merlin ‘explained’. Arthur very much would like to strangle Merlin right now, but didn’t since seeing Merlin on the brink of death was enough for one day. Arthur felt his heart drop for every lie Merlin told him. So Merlin didn’t trust him, did he? Arthur finally gave up, there wasn’t any point. He ordered Merlin to stay there, and went and fetched Darven. If the issue was magical, then perhaps Darven could fix it. Arthur was asleep, but not really. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t move his arms, couldn’t scream, but could think, and could hear. He was almost at the door of Gaius’s chambers when there was a whisper behind him, and then darkness. He only regained consciousness when he heard screaming. He didn’t realize it at first, too caught up in figuring out his situation. And then the screaming got harder. “There’s no point. The pain only gets worse every time you use magic,” a voice was yelling. It sounded like Darven, but what pain? Was he talking to Merlin? The screaming got even worse, Arthur wasn’t sure what was going on. Guards, where were the guards? The screaming continued, and Arthur was sure that it was Merlin. He hoped to God he was wrong. The screaming dissolved into little whimpers, and then nothing. Nothing. Arthur was struggling to gain control over his body again, but couldn’t. Arthur hoped it was only a dream, a nightmare, and that Merlin would be there the next morning to annoy the heck out of him. There were footsteps, but other than that, it was eerily silent. Arthur didn't like it one bit. After struggling for what felt like hours, he could finally open his eyes. The silence was more concerning. Arthur scrambled to his feet, cursing the guards for slacking off. He practically ripped the door off its hinges while trying to get in. Empty. The room was empty. Save it for the fact that it looked like a hurricane swept through the small chamber. And Merlin was gone. Gone, and Arthur didn’t know where to find him. Arthur was very well aware of the fact that he looked like a mad man. He was on a straight rampage to his chambers to gather his armor, and to find a way to find Merlin. Someone was calling for him, but he paid it no mind. He put on his armor to the best of his ability, grabbed the nearest sword, and headed down to the stables. “Are any horses missing,” Arthur demanded of the nearest stable boy. He nodded, scrambling to find an explanation. Arthur straddled his most reliable horse, Llamrei. “Which way did it go?” “East, sire, into the forest,” stammered the stable boy. Arthur was off. Darven left very good tracks. There were fresh hoofprints, and it couldn't have been there for long. It was Arthur's only lead, and he didn't want to think about what would happen if it failed. Arthur followed them to arrive at a clearing in the forest, and then the prints began to disappear. Arthur swept the area, but it all seemed to have disappeared. Dammit. Fuck. Merlin. The clearing couldn’t have been more than six feet of radius, but what irked Arthur was that it was a perfect circle. And it hardly was a clear meadow, it looked like someone burnt it through and tried to regrow the vegetative life. Something about the clearing felt off, though. Not, off, familiar. Which was stupid, really, because a meadow isn’t a person you familiarize yourself with. For now, Arthur couldn’t really care, since he only wished to find his Merlin. Arthur made it towards the center of the clearing, where the sense of deja-vu was stronger. From here, Merlin could be anywhere. He couldn’t navigate without tracks. Maybe he should have brought a few Knights. Or at least stopped to think about how he’d find Merlin. But if the screaming did in fact belong to Merlin… Arthur didn’t want to think of it. And so here, at the center of the clearing, he had a traitor in the court, a very much injured friend, and a broken heart to lead him. Oh, yes, and also Llamrei. Llamrei neighed, sounding a bit distressed. A spooked horse really was the last thing Arthur needed. He didn’t exactly get to comfort her before she took off running to the left. Here’s the thing about riding spooked horses- you shouldn’t. Because they have no regard for the rider. Arthur was greatly concerned about his back, and also about the fact that Llamrei was going off in a random direction. He tried to regain control, but all she did was run faster. Arthur was pretty sure he was yelling at this point. Well maybe, perhaps, it wasn’t a random direction she was running off to. Because they arrived at another clearing which housed a little hut. In all his years of playing and hunting and scouring the forest, Arthur’s never seen this part of it. The trees looked new, the ground was unfamiliar, and it was a very silent part of the forest. Arthur wondered how he’s never stumbled upon this part of the forest before. If this, by some miracle, happens to be the place Merlin’s being held hostage, Arthur would make sure to promote Llameri to literally the best horse ever . Arthur tied Llameri to a tree and ran straight to the door, and really, stealth was overrated. The only thought running in Arthur’s brain was ‘Merlin needs me, Merlin needs help, find Merlin, find Merlin, make sure Merlin’s fine, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin’. So really, the only thing Arthur could do was barge in and protect Merlin. No matter what he did, he’d never be able to face the horror that was presented to him. Because what he saw as he entered was one (1) pale, tired Merlin with pain written all over his face, and nothing could stop Arthur from yelling. His fear of losing Merlin was valid more than ever, and Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. He feared he’d lose him. Feared he'd lose something so very dear to him. And then Merlin smiled, one of his genuine smiles he only reserved for Arthur, although it had a painful edge to it. Arthur could feel his heart seize in his chest, somehow, gaining the courage to look away. Arthur drew his gaze away to inspect his surroundings. Particularly, his eyes landed on Darven, with a knife, arms hoisted high up, aimed right over Merlin’s heart, and Arthur snapped. At this point, all he saw was red, so it was hard to say how he was at the door for a second and then pinning Darven against the wall in the next. Darven was withering like a weasel in Arthur hold, and Arthur enjoyed every second of it. Right when he had a clear path to stab Darven, Arthur couldn’t feel the ground. The air zapped around him, and something hard came in contact with his back. Now, it was Darven who had Arthur pinned to the wall. But really, all Arthur could hear was Merlin screaming, and that’s all he needed to fight against the invisible restraints. “Look, Arthur, I really have nothing against you,” Darven said, testing the weight of the sword. Where did he get a sword from? Oh, it’s Arthur’s. Darven really didn’t know how to hold a sword. Even Merlin could do better than that. Arthur couldn’t help it but laugh. He could see Merlin roll his eyes, and Arthur was glad that he was conscious enough for that. Arthur’s amusement didn’t last long, since Darven was still alive, and not on the floor bleeding out like he was supposed to. Supposedly, this could have gone a lot smoother if Arthur had brought back up. Dammit. DIdn’t matter, Darven was too stupid to do anything. The weasel could barely hold a sword. But he had magic, and Merlin wasn’t using his for some reason. Again, perhaps back up would have been a good option. Arthur only hoped that Merlin wouldn’t figure out that he came alone. Arthur would never hear the end of it. “You cabbage head!” Merlin yelled in outrage. Shit, Merlin knew. “You utter, idiotic, moron!” Dammit, if he had made it out, he’d still be dead due to Merlin’s fussings. (He didn’t particularly mind the fussing). “Sorry,” Arthur could only mumble, ducking his head down. The next thing he knew, Merlin was yelling again, and Arthur couldn’t really stand here and listen to it. Arthur started struggling against the bonds once again, hoping to get free. “Merlin stop! You’re hurting-” “No, you stop being so stupid!” Merlin kept yelling. Fuck, no matter what, if Merlin was insulting Arthur, things aren’t so bad. Things would be better if Merlin was in Arthur’s arms, safe and healed. And then that hypocritical idiot, that hypocritical goddamn moron, says this: “Stop, Darven. Just. Stop. I’ll go willingly. Leave him.” Arthur could see tears in Merlin’s eyes, which was really the last string. “Shut up, Merlin,” he couldn’t help but yell in outrage. His stupid manservant, doing stupid things, being so stupid, was the last thing he needed. And then Darven actually seemed to consider Merlin’s proposal. Arthur kept yelling things at the two of them, struggling against the bonds. At one point, he could feel the bonds give away, but it only lasted for a second. It was all he needed. “How do I know he won’t kill me after I kill you?” Darven, the weasel, was taunting his Merlin. Arthur wanted to scream that he’d kill him anyway. That he’d make sure to kill him in the worst way possible. Arthur was glad that Darven was walking away from Merlin, but now his sword was pointed towards Arthur’s abdomen. Oh. Arthur was still struggling, but he knew it was practically fruitless. Merlin was screaming and was now crying freely. Arthur only regretted that he never told Merlin how he felt. About how much he cared. He wanted to be with Merlin, at least in the final hours of his life. But they were far away, too far away. All he could do was stare, hoping to convey everything. His regret, his love, his anger towards the situation, and his longing. Something was off, Merlin was screaming too much. He never wished to hear those screams again. But one look at his wrist answered his questions. Merlin wasn’t using magic because his magic was trapped. But the shackles around his wrists were glowing, and Arthur couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt. In the corner of his eye, he could see the sword closing in, but he didn’t mind. What he did mind, though, was Merlin breaking eye contact, because at least the last thing he wanted to see were those blue eyes. And then Arthur realized why Merlin looked away. Merlin was screaming again, the sound clenching his heart and milking away all his self-restraint. The shackles around his wrists had exploded, and things were silent for a second. Arthur could see the relief in his eyes, something he missed. His relief was short-lived, because once he glanced up, Merlin’s expression twisted into one of fury, anger, and hurt. Arthur hated seeing that. It took him a while to realize what was different, but Merlin’s eyes were glowing a beautiful gold. Arthur, distracted by Merlin’s eyes, only noticed he was free once his back contacted the floor. Finally. Arthur was ready to strangle the weasel with his bare hands but saw that Merlin had it covered. Perhaps Merlin wasn’t just as pants at magic as Arthur thought. Merlin was literally glowing at this point. His hands held fire, real fire, and Merlin looked absolutely powerful. But when Merlin looked at Arthur, he looked resigned and apologetic. The idiot really didn’t know, huh? Then Merlin looked away, and Arthur wanted to reach out and comfort him but realized he was pinned again. Arthur paused, confused. Why was he being pinned again? What did Darven get from making Arthur immobile? The next thing Arthur knew, there was fire everywhere. In the shape of a dragon, like fireballs, like fire itself. The hut seemed close to burning down. Surprisingly, none of it reached Arthur, even though his surroundings were up in flames. And then it dawned on him, he wasn’t pinned down, Merlin had put a shield around him. Perhaps Merlin wasn’t as weak as he thought he was. Scratch that, Merlin was powerful. A few words and a hand slamming down, and the ground was sent shaking. Arthur could barely feel any of it but saw how much it rattled his surroundings. Debris was littering his surroundings, bouncing off of him. He didn’t want to look away but glanced at Darven instead. He looked terrified. Good. He should be. Arthur wished he was the one to murder Darven, but Merlin should do it if he wished to. Has Merlin killed before? Merlin sent a batch of fireballs raining upon Darven, which broke the shield he built around himself. Merlin summoned a dozen more but paused. Arthur was concerned, and even more so when Merlin fell to his knees. Arthur fought against the shield again, pounding against the walls, wanting to be close. But the more he fought, the more Merlin winced. Arthur paused, staying as still as possible. Darven was on the ground, passed out cold. He could take care of it later. “Merlin!” Arthur yelled, hoping to get an answer. The only one he got was the weakening of the shields around him. Arthur felt something cold pass through him. Merlin looked seconds away from passing out. Arthur wanted to reach out but was trapped. Merlin still wasn’t looking at Arthur. Look at me, you idiot, look at me! Arthur tried to move once more, despising the distance between them. He wanted to be close, to provide comfort for Merlin, who looked worse . Which was a bad idea because Merlin fell forward. The shields dissolved around him. Arthur could feel something clenching his heart in a vice grip. Merlin’s breathing slowed and slowed until it was barely seen. Arthur shuffled forward, regretting his actions. He positioned Merlin so that he could cradle him close to his heart. Arthur could still see the faint golden glow under Merlin’s eyelids before that too went out like a lamp. Arthur scrambled to check for a pulse. Weak. It was barely there. “No,” Arthur could hear himself whisper, but everything felt far away. Arthur maneuvered his limp body so that he could hug him closer, be as close as possible. Arthur’s eyes welled up when he barely heard a pulse. Arthur could feel a part of him strip away, a big chunk of his soul being stripped. He's felt it before, never realizing it for what it was. Once, in the past, Merlin was almost lost to him. And now, once more. He held Merlin’s head in his arms, searching for any signs of life. Arthur’s tears fell to Merlin, and he hoped for something. Anything. “Merlin,” Arthur wanted to say so much, do so much. Now they couldn’t. Merlin was right. Darven wasn’t to be trusted. But he believed that he was after Arthur, not himself. If only Arthur listened… Arthur held him close again, never wanting to let go. And then he heard a chough. His heart skipped a beat, filling up with hope. But Merlin remained the same. Another cough. Darven. Arthur carefully placed Merlin on the ground. He's killed before, although with a tinge of regret for every life he took. But no, not for this one. He felt strangely calm. Maybe it’s because he knew nothing was holding him back from letting his instincts take over. He would make sure to drown Darven in his own blood. Arthur picked up his discarded sword but really didn’t want to use it. He wanted to kill him, preferably with his bare hands. Arthur crouched down, knowing that it was best if he ended this quickly, just in case Darven decided to use magic again. “Arthur-” he gasped, but Arthur barely cared. “It’s ‘Your highness’ to you,” Arthur stabbed his sword to his thigh, knowing it would be a fatal but slow death. He twisted his sword for good measure. Darven’s screams were the only screams that pleased him. Arthur left him there, screaming and yelling in his own pool of blood, and made his way back to his Merlin. Merlin wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. They had too much to talk about. Too much to do. It couldn’t end like this. This time, when Arthur held him, he could feel a heartbeat. It was faint. Doesn’t matter where it came from. Because it was enough. Arthur held him close, promising himself to never let go. He’d keep Merlin close because Merlin was his . His to protect, his to love, his. Arthur barely left Merlin’s bedside for the better part of three days. On the fourth day, Arthur hurled himself out of the room, reminding himself that he was also King. His advisors weren’t happy about the fact that Arthur cared about Merlin. Arthur was close to murdering them all. Gaius explained it to Arthur, saying that Merlin’s been helping Arthur ever since he’s arrived in Camelot. Gaius told him the gist of it, saying the rest was for Merlin to explain. Affodill, much to Arthur’s dismay, also seemed to be visiting Merlin. Arthur wasn’t heartless, so he couldn’t forbid her from visiting. At one such occasion when their visiting hours overlapped, Affodill sat Arthur down for a chat. “Merlin is our lord,” Affodill explained, and Arthur looked at her in confusion. “Do you remember how I mentioned Emrys in our first meeting?” Arthur nodded, although not seeing the connection. “Merlin is Emrys.” A few days ago, Arthur would have laughed. Sweet, clumsy, idiotic Merlin as the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth? Highly unlikely. But now, Arthur didn’t know. What Arthur did know is that he still loves Merlin, if Merlin would have him. Now that was highly unlikely. But Arthur hoped that Merlin felt the same. Because if not, Arthur doesn’t know. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur, who doesn't know about Merlin's magic, hosts a tournament for his Court Sorcerer. Merlin is not jealous. No, why would he be? That's stupid. So what if the new Court Sorcerer seems to be kinda powerful? Also, power-hungry people suck. Like a lot. -or- Arthur knows but doesn't know. Merlin hates the new guy (with good reason). Arthur ignores Merlin. They're idiots. Notes just a smol warning- Merlin gets hurt in this one. Like a lot. Very hurt. Also, BAMF Merlin is one of my favorite things, thank you. hope you like it! It was pitiful how Merlin still had to hide even after Arthur repealed the magic ban. Not that Merlin was ungrateful. No, Merlin was glad. Ecstatic even. Camelot was prospering, the sorcerers were content, the Druids no longer had to fear a raid, and the non-magical citizens were learning how to accept wizards. There were the occasional magical mishaps, but Gaius (openly) and Merlin (secretly) took care of them. Merlin didn’t know why he couldn’t tell Arthur about his magic. He knew the longer he waited, the worse it would get. But he’s been lying for nearly five years and is afraid of seeing Arthur hurt and angry. Not to mention the wrong things Merlin did while hiding. Would Arthur forgive him for turning Morgana away from them? Would he forgive him for releasing the dragon? Would he be furious after discovering it was him who killed his father? Which is why Merlin decided he’d continue hiding. Not forever, though; the truth was bound to come out one day or the other. But until then, Merlin was content with protecting Arthur and Camelot from the shadows. A repeal in the magical ban, sadly, did not put an end to the countless assassins from both magical and non-magical humans alike. Repealing the magic ban might have pleased the magical community, but it also angered the anti- magical community. It consisted of people who were utterly loyal to Uther (shocking, almost everyone Merlin knew hated Uther and adored Arthur) and his claims against magic. They believed that magic was the mother of all evils and wished to see it purged from the land. Needless to say, they were outraged when Arthur repealed the ban on magic. There were also the sorcerers who were wronged by the Pendragons and wanted Arthur to pay for his crimes. Granted, the number of magical assassins decreased drastically after the repeal. But a radical wizard would make an occasional appearance, which is why Merlin was finally ready to strangle the King of Camelot. “... It is a brilliant idea Merlin. There've been a lot of magical crimes that need to be addressed,” said the prat. “I need someone knowledgeable enough to advise me on magical matters.” “You have Gaius! He has magic and is a trusted person!” Merlin said. “Yes, but Gaius is already a Court Physician and Advisor. I can’t give him a third title,” Arthur said. To be honest, he had a point. Giving one person too much power in court matters was a disaster in the making. Arthur should have thought of this before repealing the ban. Merlin still was unsure of what gave Arthur the final push to repeal the ban, but he was grateful nevertheless. “Then sack him as your Advisor and make him Court Sorcerer!” Merlin said. “I can’t do that Merlin, I need someone trusted as my Advisor,” Arthur said. “Exactly! You’re going to host a tournament filled with strangers to compete for the position of someone you’re meant to trust .” “Well, do tell me, Mer lin, is there a sorcerer you know who I can trust? I’d gladly make them my Court Sorcerer,” Arthur said. Me! I’m a sorcerer! Is what Merlin so badly wanted to say, but refrained. “... No,” Merlin said, disheartened. He sighed and continued cleaning up the room. Merlin saw that Arthur was done with his dinner and reached out to collect the plates and set them aside. “Let’s get you ready for bed.” Merlin set out Arthur’s nightclothes and urged Arthur to stand. He dressed Arthur up for bed and prepped the fireplace. Once Arthur was tucked in bed, Merlin snuffed out the candles and closed the curtains. “Goodnight, Arthur,” Merlin said as he collected the dishes and went out the door. “ ‘Night Merlin.” Merlin needs to convince Arthur to not hold the tournament. He did not know how many people wished him dead. A tournament like this would be the perfect opportunity to carry out an assassination. Merlin doubted any sorcerer would be foolish enough to kill Arthur out in the open, but the days leading to and after the tournament were perfect opportunities. Amongst all the sorcerers, they can easily avert any accusations and escape. “You’ll die,” Merlin said. Arthur was a bit shocked at the sudden proclamation. “Everyone dies, Merlin,” Arthur said. Merlin stopped pacing around the room and came towards Arthur on his desk. He put both his hands on the table and leaned forward. “No, you don’t get it,” Merlin said, shaking his head. Arthur rolled his eyes and rested his chin in his arms. “Please do explain the natural cycle of life, Merlin,” Arthur said, looking slightly amused. Merlin was getting frustrated by Arthur’s aloof tendencies. “There’s always been an attempt at your life every tournament,” Merlin said. Arthur huffed and leaned back towards his chair. “But Mer lin, this is different,” he said. “How so?” Merlin asked. “I won’t be participating. Plus, not every tournament was an assassination plan.” “Yes, it has. I’ve always had to save your royal backside whenever you or Uther organized a tournament!” Merlin said. “And you not participating doesn’t make a difference, We’ll all be sitting ducks wearing a colorful “Kick Me!” sign!” Arthur scoffed. “You’ve never saved me, Merlin ,” “Valiant,” Merlin said and crossed his arms. “Lucky guess,” Arthur shrugged. “Vivian.” “That was Gwen,” Arthur said, raising his eyebrow, challenging him. “Who do you think told her to kiss you?” Merlin retorted. “Tristan de Bois,” “That was my Father,” Arthur said and narrowed his eyes. “Who do you think gave him the sword?” Merlin said and immediately regretted it. “Where did you find the sword?” Arthur questioned. Abort mission, find an insult. Always seems to work. “Your pea-sized brain couldn’t possibly comprehend it,” Merlin replies. “Do you need me to keep going, your Royal Prattishness?” “Excuse you. And it won’t be necessary,” Arthur said, scowling. “But you see, I won’t be participating. I’ll have Camelot’s finest Knights to guard me, in case.” “Are you trying to say that a sword is faster than a raging fireball?” Merlin asked. “You’re being irrational. No one’s going to harm me,” Arthur said. “Now, have you finished drafting my speech for the tournament, Merlin?” Arthur said. Merlin just gave him his best glare, trying to look as angry as possible. “Pathetic excuse of a dollophead,” Merlin muttered under his breath. “What was that?” “I said ‘Right after I finish making your bed’ ,“ Merlin smiled cheekily. “That’s not what you said,” Arthur glared. “Why ask if you heard?” Merlin asked and retreaded to the bed. Merlin kept trying to convince Arthur to withdraw from the tournament. Arthur, in his defense, said that this tournament was going down in history. Merlin agreed, saying that it would go down in history as the most foolish decision made by the most idiotic king ever. (Of course, Merlin didn’t mean it, Arthur was a great king and Merlin loved him). Ah, yes. The second and possibly worse secret. Merlin fucking loved his King. Another reason to keep hiding. It was a very tragic love story. Merlin was in love with Arthur, who adored Gwen, who was besotted with Lancelot, who was honor-bound to put his King before him. Merlin couldn’t blame Gwen for being in love with Lancelot, the man was impossible not to love. Merlin himself used to harbor crushes on both Gwen and Lancelot but was dissolved into a type of sibling love. This was long before he realized his feelings for Arthur, though. Just because Merlin was secretly pining after Arthur did not mean that Merlin had to like the prat. Arthur could be very infuriating if he wanted to be. “Do you call this a draft, Merlin?” Arthur asked just as Merlin entered the room. Merlin knew what this was about and didn’t regret it one bit. “Is there a problem, sire ?” Merlin asked, faking innocence. “ ‘I welcome you all to the very first bad decision I made since I became King’ ,” Arthur read from the parchment. “ ‘Despite my manservant’s warnings, which I will so happily ignore, I want to thank every participant for taking part in this great mistake’ ,” Arthur continued and looked up. “Really, Merlin? ‘I am looking for a strange magician, who will most likely backstab me, to become my beloved Court Sorcerer’? ” Arthur sighed and placed the ‘draft’ on his desk. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Merlin. Merlin may have regretted being so blunt, but he needs Arthur to listen for once. “Is this about magic? Why are you against this?” Arthur asked. “No! Magic is fine, great, even. But you’ll be consulting your Court Sorcerer for all magical things. You need someone you can trust, Arthur,” Merlin said. He walked until he was right in front of Arthur’s desk. “Throwing a tournament like this will only result in an unknown person winning the position! How do you know to trust this random person?” Merlin asked. Arthur sighed and gestured towards the chair. “Sit.” Merlin slumped and obeyed. “What is this actually about?” Arthur asked. Now would be a great time to reveal himself. All he had to do was say it. But Merlin didn’t do all this for Arthur for a reward. He didn’t want to be made Court Sorcerer just because Arthur would feel obligated. Merlin does everything he does to keep Arthur safe. “... I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Merlin said finally. He was trying hard not to look so defeated. When he glanced up, he saw Arthur soften and leaned forward. Merlin dropped his gaze to his hands. “Merlin, look at me,” Arthur said. Merlin sighed and did. He saw that Arthur was smiling a bit. It was not funny! “I get it, and I promise that nothing will happen to me,” Arthur said, sincerely. “You can’t promise that,” Merlin frowned. “Yes, I can, and I will,” Arthur said. Did he know how stupid he sounded? Merlin sighed and decided that there was no swaying him. Merlin will just have to (secretly) cast protection enchantments and never leave Arthur’s side. “Now,” Arthur said as he got up and walked towards Merlin’s side. “I have to go for training, make sure to write an actual speech,” Arthur said and then proceed to mess up his hair. “Hey-” Merlin began to protest and pry Arthur’s hands away from his hair but Arthur just laughed. After a final cuff to his head, Arthur left for training. Merlin woke up with a weird feeling the day the participants were due to arrive. He knew it. He fucking knew it . Merlin learned long ago to trust his weird feelings. That didn’t stop Arthur from ignoring him every time he brought it up. Merlin always ended up being right but the clotpole never listens. “Gaius I’m getting one of my weird feelings again,” Merlin said as he entered the main room. Gaius was hunched over a pot, probably cooking breakfast. “I need to convince Arthur to stop this tournament,” Merlin said when he sat down at the table. “It’s a bit too late for that, the participants are soon to arrive,” Gaius said. He poured some of the porridge into a bowl and pushed it over to Merlin. Merlin gladly accepted it and began to eat as quickly as possible. “I need to go find Arthur,” Merlin said once he was done. “There’s still time before dawn,” Gaius stated. “Yes, but I need to make sure he’s alright. Maybe I can still convince him to draw it off,” Merlin said. “Rise and Shine!” Merlin said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. A long groan from the bed was the response he got. “Come on now, my lord , it’s time to grace us with your regal presence ,” Merlin tried. “Shut up ‘erlin,” Arthur muttered. “It’s too early.” “As I seem to recall, my liege , you were the one eager to invite dozens of mysterious sorcerers to compete with each other in a tourney today,” Merlin said as he went to the closet to pick Arthur’s clothes. He made sure to pick the blue tunic which Arthur seems to despise. “Mhm… Merlin, two more minutes!” Arthur said from the bed. “Nuh-huh. Up you get. We need to make you presentable enough. Come on lazy-daisy!” Merlin said. Arthur didn’t answer. Merlin walked over and stood beside Arthur’s bed. “I’ll eat your breakfast. All of it.” Merlin tried to rile him up. Arthur gave a thumbs-up from under the cover. Merlin sighed and shook him as hard as he could. No reaction. “Arthur,” Merlin said. He moved closer, “Arthurr” he whispered. “Hmm,” Arthur sighed from under the covers and poked his head out. Merlin failed for a second because he looked so cute. Merlin wanted to curl up beside him and stay until tomorrow. Okay, control yourself, Merlin . “Arthurrr” Merlin whispered again. Merlin raised a hand to brush the strands of hair off of Arthur’s ear. He got as close as possible while trying to not kiss Arthur. “ARTHUR!” Merlin yelled. Arthur jerked up and slammed his head against Merlin’s temple. Ouch. “MERLIN!” Arthur yelled. Merlin jerked back and rubbed his temple. Ouch. “FUCK!” Arthur cursed. “Ouch. That hurt,” Merlin complained. “Whatever gave you the right to yell in my ear?!” Arthur tried to reach out to cuff Merlin’s head but Merlin ducked away. “Stocks. Or maybe I should have you flogged,” Arthur said and plopped down on the mattress. “No! I just woke you up, don’t go back to sleep!” Merlin reached out. Arthur drew the covers over his head. FIne. Merlin yanked the covers off and hooked his arms around Arthur’s chest. He put all his strength into pulling Arthur down. “Nooo-” Arthur began to protest but fell. Merlin moved towards the desk to get a chunk of bread and began to stuff it down Arthur’s throat. Arthur pushed him away and swatted Merlin. “Why couldn’t you serve me breakfast in bed?” Arthur complained. “Because breakfast in bed is a privilege reserved for only good masters who treat their servants right,” Merlin said. “When have I ever mistreated you?” Arthur mock-protested. Merlin pulled on his best disapproving glare and tried to stare down Arthur. Arthur only laughed and got up. Merlin sighed and started to help Arthur into today’s clothes. Of course, Arthur complained about Merlin’s choice of clothes but Merlin only ignored him and continued. Arthur went over to his desk and ate breakfast while Merlin cleaned around the room. It was amazing how dirty the room could get in one night. Merlin almost suspected that Arthur purposely did it to keep Merlin busy. “It isn’t too late to cancel the tourney,” Merlin reminded. “Don’t be daft, most of the competitors are probably close to Camelot by now,” Arthur said. Well, at least he tried. Merlin decided he would let Arthur die if there was an assassination attempt. ( Liar his brain challenged, Shut up Merlin told himself). “Whatever, don’t wait for me in the afterlife after you’ve been assassinated,” Merlin said. “Now, why would I do that? I hardly wish to put up with your insolent ways in heaven,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “What makes you sure you’ll be in heaven?” Merlin resisted the urge to stick his tongue out and instead gave him a cheeky smile. “Merlin?” Arthur asked. “Shut up?” Merlin replied. “You guessed it,” Arthur gave him a fake smile and continued to eat. In conclusion, Merlin still has a very bad feeling TM and wasn’t any closer to changing Arthur’s mind. It was too late anyway. The only thing Merlin could do was make sure he’s next to Arthur if he needs protection. The competitors began arriving soon after, and Arthur collectively greeted them in the Great Hall. Merlin did a quick scan of the crowd to keep an eye out on the obvious assassins. Of course, most assassins do not wear an “I’m an assassin” sign; but Merlin wanted to narrow down the list as much as possible. By the end of the speech, Merlin concluded that all of them seem… normal. Normal for sorcerers, that is. “So… Mer lin,” Arthur said as the competitors were led away to their quarters. The tourney was to be held at high noon, and they were to take that time to rest from their long journeys. “There’s a lot of people here, a lot of wizards,” Arthur continued. “Wizards, yes,” Merlin agreed. “Who do you think will win?” Arthur asked. They both left through the servant’s entrance and took the short-cut to Arthur’s chambers. “How am I supposed to know?” Merlin asked. Merlin didn’t think about running a magic scan since that would give away his position of being a warlock. So, Merlin would have no idea until he gets a taste of their magic. Well, not taste but a snippet of their magic could be enough to determine their strength. “I don’t know, use your… senses,” Arthur said. Senses? Merlin narrowed his eyes. “What senses might these be?” Merlin asked. Did Arthur know about Merlin’s magic? If he did, why doesn’t he say so? “You know, your, um, weird…? Senses,” Arthur said, uncertainty. Merlin was prevented from answering when Arthur caught sight of Gwen. “Guinevere!” Arthur exclaimed. Merlin saw Gwen turn around and smile brightly. Arthur wore a similar love-sick expression. Gwen and Arthur’s relationship was one of those which makes you want to leave the room before the love pollens attack you. Well, Merlin was already in love but came to terms with his unrequited love a while back. He knew nothing could come out of his pathetic little crush. But it still hurt whenever Gwen and Arthur interacted. “Arthur! Merlin! I trust the welcome speech is over?” Gwen asked. Arthur took her hand and kissed her knuckles before holding her hand and walking with her. Merlin silently rolled his eyes at their backs. “Yes, it is. I was heading back to my chambers. Will you join me?” Arthur asked. Dammit, now Merlin can’t be in Arthur’s chambers. Dammit. “Yes, of course. I’ll have to leave soon though, in case any of the guests require me,” Gwen said. Now, don’t get Merlin wrong. He loved Gwen. She was the best person ever. And Merlin was happy that it was Arthur who she was seeing. Merlin knows that they won’t necessarily break each other’s hearts since their each other’s true love. Merlin just always wished that he never fell in love with Arthur in the first place. “Erm, I need to go see if Gaius needs anything,” Merlin lied. He needed an excuse to get out of there as soon as possible. “He needs my help to prepare the emergency kits,” Merlin said, which wasn’t necessarily a lie. The kits were finished, they just needed to be packed. “Oh,” Arthur said. “Alright, I guess. Will you be here before the tourney?” Arthur asked. Gwen gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, I know you can’t dress on your own. I’ll be there,” Merlin gave them a wave before turning and heading towards Gaius’s chambers. “Oi! I’ll have you know that I can dress just fine!” Arthur retorted. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sire ,” Merlin said over his shoulder. He heard Gwen laugh and Arthur protest before turning over the corner. Merlin didn’t have anything to do, for the time being, so he decided he’d spy on a few of the sorcerers. Each guest-chamber housed three sorcerers each. He’d go under the guise of serving them while listening for some danger. The first group seemed average, they were discussing the tourney when Merlin entered. They ceased talking about magic as soon as they saw Merlin and hesitated before starting again. Old habits die hard. Merlin smiled at them and asked them if they needed anything. They refused, saying that everything was in order, and dismissed him. The next few groups were just about the same. Occasionally one would ask a few curious questions about the tourney, which Merlin would answer to the best of his ability. None of the sorcerers seemed to have the intent of killing. Merlin wondered if a few Druids would participate too. So far, none of the sorcerers recognized Merlin and didn’t attempt to speak to him telepathically. Merlin shuddered at the thought. Mind speak always felt intrusive; sometimes it was hard to distinguish between his thoughts and another’s voice. Merlin made a note to inform any Druids to keep quiet about his identity. Honestly, why was Merlin so afraid of Arthur finding out? Magic is welcome in Camelot, and all the sorcerers are being treated as normal people. But Merlin wasn’t normal, was he? He’s made a handful of questionable choices in the past, all of which still weigh him down. The screams of Camelot’s people during Kilgarrah’s attack still plague his dreams. Morgana’s expression of disbelief and betrayal still follows him around like a ghost. Not to mention the people he’s killed. It’s deeds like these which weigh him down; which stops him from telling Arthur everything. All his sacrifices seem insignificant in front of his mistakes. Merlin didn’t notice the person in front of him until he walked straight into them. He hit his head to something hard and his steps flattered for a bit. His head hurt like hell. What did he just bump into? Merlin looked up and saw a man- about the same height and build as Leon- step back a bit. “Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking-” The man started to apologize. He looked at Merlin holding his head in his arms and seemed to realize that he was hurt. “Oh my, are you alright? I really didn’t see you there, I don’t know-” “I’m fine-” Merlin began saying, but the man was apparently hell-bent on apologizing. “No really, um, let me-” He said and moved to inspect Merlin’s head. Merlin shook his head and grabbed his hand to gently lower it down. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt,” Merlin lied. What was the man made of, rocks? “I should be the one apologizing, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” Merlin tried to explain. “If you say so…” The man said, uncertainty. Merlin nodded and smiled, trying to look convincing. “Yes, I’m sure. Sorry, you probably need to be somewhere,” Merlin said. The man smiled and nodded. “Yes, uh, this is embarrassing. I might have lost my way back to the guest quarters?” The man scratched the back of his neck. “I might be able to help, I work here,” Merlin said. So the man was a sorcerer. “Do you remember anything about how your chambers looked?” Merlin asked. “I remember seeing a tapestry with a flower pot nearby, it was on the second floor, I believe.” He said. Very helpful Merlin thought. Tapestries and flowers littered the castle. Well at least, it was on the second floor, which narrows it down a bit. “The guest quarters are this way,” Merlin directed. “It’s a big castle, it’s easy to get lost. Follow me,” he said. He’d just have to figure it out on the way. “I’m Darven, by the way,” The man, Darven said. “Merlin, nice to meet you,” Merlin answered. The second floor of the guest quarters had about five rooms, which were mostly occupied. “Do you remember any of the people you were staying with?” Merlin asked. “I only met one, he was middle-aged and kinda short,” Darven said. Well, Merlin does not know any of the occupants of these rooms. Damn. “Oh wait, I remember the window faced the courtyard and had a perfect view of the gates!” Darven said. Well, that helped. The rooms at the side were definitely not it, since they faced the walls. The only one with a view of the courtyard was the one at the far end of the chambers, which is probably Darven’s. “I think I know where your room is,” Merlin said, and guided him towards the chambers. Darven seemed to recognize the chambers, and probably couldn’t find them because it was further off from the other four. “Thank you!” Darven said. Merlin gave him a polite smile and bowed, wanting to get out and continue his inspections. Thankfully, that seemed to be the end of the little meeting. Unfortunately, it was already time to dress Arthur. He probably had a couple more groups to spy on, but there was no time. Arthur would be insufferable if he’s late. Gwen wasn’t in the chambers when Merlin entered, which was a blessing. He wasn’t sure how much of the lovely couple he could take. He didn’t want to find out. Arthur was fairly quiet, probably trying to memorize yet another speech. Merlin was tired of drafting these speeches. What is it with the Royals and their countless speeches? Just say one and get over with it. Merlin didn’t try to speak either; there was no point. He’ll just have to be extra cautious. Merlin dressed Arthur in a classic red tunic with brown breeches and paired it with his crown. Arthur looked spectacular if you asked Merlin, and if he could he’d leave it at that. But chainmail and armor was a must. He knew how much Arthur preferred casual clothing, but it wasn’t a reason to jeopardize Arthur’s safety. Merlin would make sure he’s always protected, and then some. “Ready?” Arthur asked. Merlin picked up Arthur’s sword from the table and examined it. Merlin would feel better if Arthur carried Excalibur, but this would have to do for now. Merlin nodded and handed the sword to Arthur, who sheathed it immediately. “Lead the way, milord .” Arthur rolled his eyes and flashed Merlin his easy-going smile. Merlin felt the corners of his lips tug up, which was inconvenient since he was trying to look reluctant. As they left the chambers, the feeling of dread returned. Merlin clenched his hand and forced himself to follow Arthur. The people were already there, but their usual cheer and enthusiasm were missing. It was replaced with uncertain chatter and observing eyes, each one of them curious to see what today has in place. It was the first public display of magic for nearly all of them. There were the elders, eager to relive the memories of their childhood. There were the young, who were ready to create more memories. There were the adults, the ones who were stuck in the middle. They had no memories and no flexibility. They didn’t have a child’s curiosity and an elder's acceptance. They were the ones who chartered the most, but with voices barely above a whisper. There were the competitors, who were moved into tents for preparation. There was the staff, ready to cater to their needs. There were Arthur’s most trusted Knights, extra attentive as per Merlin’s request, as most were Merlin’s friends before Arthur’s Knights, who bowed to Arthur as he entered the dais. Gwaine greeted Merlin with his casual flirty winks and pats, Lancelot with an easy smile and hair- ruffling, Percival with a cheerful handshake, Elyan with a slightly aggressive but friendly punch, and Leon with his ever so serious nod before resuming their professional ‘I’m-a-very-scary-knight- fear-me’ stance. Merlin gave them all a wave and what he hoped was a convincing smile, as he still wasn’t able to shake off his sense of dread. The crowd quietened their chatter when the participants entered the grounds, each one curious to see the first magical tournament in nearly three decades. It was so unlike a regular tourney, the air would be filled with people’s cheers at this point. Arthur stepped down and stood in front of the wizards. They were aligned in two rows and were diverse. Merlin could see each one was different from the other, ranging from aspiring teenagers and head-strong adults to uncertain youngsters and stoic warriors. There were hardly ten competitors, and none of them Druids. Merlin could trust Druids to an extent, they were preferred over these strangers with different backgrounds. Merlin and the Druids were going to talk soon. “Thank you for stepping forward and competing for a position in my court,” Arthur began. “I admire your bravery and respect your skills, and I wish every one of you the best.” “However, I am in no such position to judge magic, I only am a King and a Knight,” Arthur continued, and Merlin just knew he did something. “And so, the judge of today’s tournament will be Affodill, a Druid who kindly took up my request.” It was then that Merlin noticed the much less decorative chair beside Arthur’s throne and the woman with the red hair who entered practically out of nowhere. Merlin could swear that she wasn’t there a minute ago. Curse Druids and their uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere. Merlin was furious that Arthur went and consulted a Druid without informing Merlin. He didn’t have to tell Merlin everything, of course, but he always did. How did he know where to find one? What else does Arthur know? Merlin tried to convey his frustration and confusion through a glare, but Arthur had his back turned. Merlin changed his glare to a pleading stare and directed it towards Affodill, who was already staring at Merlin. She pointed towards her head, and Merlin gave a reluctant nod. “ Hello Emrys ,” she spoke, and Merlin had to suppress a shudder. Merlin broke eye contact and stared straight ahead at Arthur’s head, hoping she doesn’t notice how much he hates this. “ I hope you are aware that I can read your thoughts, my lord ,” she continued. Dammit. “Affodill, who is well versed in the magical community…” Arthur continued speaking. “ Apologies, Afflodill. And... um, maybe not refer to me as ‘my lord’? “ Merlin said, through the telepathic link. “ Understood, my- Emrys. ” “ Also refrain from calling me Emrys? I, um… Arthur doesn’t know. ” “One might think that I grew up without any magical influences, but I only recently figured out the importance of magic in my life…” Arthur went on. Merlin doesn’t remember writing all that. “ I gathered, Em- Merlin ,” she said, her voice growing more and more uncertain by the second. Merlin struggled to pay attention to Arthur’s words while continuing a telepathic link and decided to tune out of Arthur’s speech. “ I trust you’ll protect my secret? ” “ I apologize for intruding, but why is it a secret? Magic isn’t outlawed, my lord. ” “ Merlin ," he reminded. " And it’s complicated, just… don’t tell him. You haven’t told him, have you? ” Merlin saw that Arthur had finished his speech and was returning towards the dais. Merlin gave him a good, long, hard glare, and Arthur only raised an eyebrow. Merlin gave him one last look before turning away, and Arthur settled down on his throne, Affoldill doing the same. “No, he doesn’t know,” Affodill assured. Merlin gave her a grateful nod and dedicated his full attention to the tournament. He did one last scan of the crowd, searching for any visible weapons. The first competitor stepped forward, looking like he stepped out of a “Typical Wizards Looks” book. Merlin’s never read one, but he’s sure there had to be a book on that topic. He was old, probably close to Gaius’ age, and had hair similar to Dragoon's. He wore a purple robe and carried a long stick, which was probably a fashionable factor. Merlin had to suppress a chuckle, and a quick look at Affodill said she had to do the same. “My lord,” the Build-Your-Wizard wizard bowed down and straightened his back. “My name is Elfryn,” seriously, is that really his name? “ It sure seems like it ,” said Affodill’s voice, and Merlin may have jumped out of his skin. God fucking dammit. “I am honored to display my skill sets to you, and I hope you enjoy it.” Elfryn continued. “ I say he’s a beginner ,” Merlin said. “ Bet .” Elfryn closed his eyes and stretched his arm out, muttering a spell Merlin couldn’t hear. His eyes flashed gold, and on his palm was an orb of light hovering. He did a little jerking motion and the light flew towards the sky, where it stopped. He muttered another spell and the ball of light grew in size until it exploded. The crowd gasped and a few shrieked, but most were ready to dash out of their seats. Merlin was ready to cast a spell of his own to shield the ones close to him but saw that the light only exploded into other tiny little lights. “Not bad,” Arthur muttered. Merlin relaxed a bit and leaned a bit closer to him. “Yes, very flashy.” “ Impressive but a bit useless ,” Affodill said. “ Well, if I need help lighting up a cave I’d call him ,” Merlin jokes. Elfryn bowed once more, signaling the end of his performance. The spectators clapped, albeit a bit reluctantly. Arthur nodded and thanked Elfryn for his display, and Elfryn looked ecstatic. It was easy to forget how magic was now legal, and Merlin understood Elfryn. The sorcerers of Camelot sometimes forgot that they were now free, and the feeling of showing off your magic was beautiful and scary at the same time. “ I forget sometimes too. And um… you know that you can block me from reading your thoughts, sire? ” Affodill said, and Merlin cursed. Affodill gave an apologetic smile and Merlin focused on putting a barrier from his thoughts. One might think being the greatest sorcerer ever meant that you were smart. Arthur leaned over to Affodill, and the two engaged in a conversation. Merlin could barely hear them over the cheers of the crowds. The next competitor was a young woman with a black knee-length dress and black leggings. She introduced herself as Lora and addressed Affodill as well as Arthur. Merlin liked her. Merlin did another scan of the arena, once again finding nothing but the whispers of the crowd, as Lora prepared for her show. As much as Merlin liked her, she was still an unknown sorcerer. Lora took her time, her head down and arms by her side, while the crowd grew more and more restless. Lora crouched down, and Merlin made out her natural element as Earth. She muttered an enchantment and placed a hand on the ground. The area around her changed from brown to fresh grassy green, and a single flower bloomed in front of her. She stood up, and the crowd erupted in cheer, this time, bolder. “The flower’s pretty,” Merlin told Arthur, who nodded in agreement. Arthur thanked her for her splendid performance, and Lora looked just as pleased as Elfryn did. “ She isn’t so bad ,” said Affodill’s voice. “ I like her, she’s good ,” Merlin replied. Arthur and Affodill once again discussed her credibility, while Lora bowed and retreated and another magician took her place. This time, it was a middle-aged woman, who had brown hair with greying roots. She introduced herself as Muriel and greeted her King. Her element was fire, Merlin could make it out easily. She had a fierce aura, despite her appearance as a clam woman. She summoned a flame, which glowed orange. She muttered a spell, and the flame turned blue, and another, which turned the flame red. She extinguished the flame with a flick of her hand and bowed. “ I’ve seen that spell before, the Druids use it to make their flames hotter ,” Affodill said. “Speaking of Druids, why aren’t they participating?” Merlin asked, and realized his mistake when Arthur turned and raised a questioning eyebrow. God. Fucking. Dammit. Why is telepathy so confusing? “Druids? Who said anything about them?” Arthur asked, and Affodill turned towards Merlin, her eyes growing wide. “Nothing, just curious,” Merlin replied with a cheeky grin. Arthur scoffed and turned towards Affodill, and began discussing Muriel's performance. “ We Druids are not political in nature, we will work as advisors if required. But that isn’t what the King needs. He needs more than that ,” Affodill said. Merlin nodded, still a bit embarrassed at his mix up. The next participant was Philip, who also played with fire. It wasn’t as impressive as Lora’s but it was something. Hugh was next and summoned a mini-tornado, which was mostly just mild wind. Audrey brought along a ball of yarn and needle, which was confusing at first. But then he muttered a spell and the ball began knitting itself, and the yarn turned into a scarf which he presented to Affodill, who blushed and accepted it. “ He’s pretty nice isn’t he, Affodill? ” Merlin teased. Affodill rolled her eyes and turned towards Merlin. “ I don’t necessarily prefer the company of men ,” she said, her voice a bit quieter than normal. Merlin smiled, “ nor I of women ,” Merlin winked, knowing that it must have been hard to admit that. Affodill looked at him for a few seconds, her eyes wide and uncertain, before grinning hard. Merlin couldn’t help but return it. “ You have no clue how many Druidic women want to have your children ,” Affodill said, her voice more teasing than serious. “ Ew children ,” Merlin said, and fake barfed. Affodill snorted and quickly covered her mouth. “Is everything alright my lady?” Arthur asked, and Affodill shook her head. Merlin silently mimicked Arthur behind his back, and Affodill green eyes narrowed at Merlin, trying to desperately cover up a laugh. “Perfectly fine, my lord. Please just call me Affodill,” she finally said, and looked back at Merlin again, trying to look angry but looked more amused. Arthur turned and looked at whatever she was looking at, which happened to be Merlin, who quickly looked away. The tournament continued, and Merlin found himself growing more and more relaxed. He was enjoying the displays of magic, no matter how simple or easy. These people were suppressed for all their lives, and now they have the chance to show their worth. The crowd was now completely into the tournament, cheering, gasping, and clapping for every display. The last one was someone Merlin already met, Darven. Darven looked too confident for Merlin’s liking. Merlin felt himself tense up again, while also being hyper-aware of everything around him. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he knew something was off. But one look at Affodill told him she didn’t feel the same. Darven summoned a flame, but it was charged with little sparks of electricity. Another spell shaped it into a flaming electric lion, which looked very impressive. It was a mix of two different elements and required a fairly large amount of magic. Merlin wanted to enjoy the show, but the magic was off. Darven smirked and nodded at the lion, which did a loop around him. The crowd was captivated, screaming, and applauding at the electric flaming lion’s every move. The lion in the middle of the loop broke into a sprint, charging forward. In four quick strides, it was in front of the dais, and neither the lion nor Darven showed any signs of stopping. Merlin knew they weren’t going to. In a blink of an eye, the lion was meters away from Arthur, its intentions clear. Arthur showed no signs of moving. Oh, but Merlin did. Merlin knew exactly what spell was used, as Merlin has made countless dragons out of the same spell. A flash of gold and the lion dispersed into little sparkles, falling right in between Merlin and Arthur. And the goddamn crowd cheered. And Arthur clapped. Merlin could feel Darven’s confused stare, but it was covered up by his slightly reluctant bow. Merlin looked at Affodill, she must know what happened, right? But she looked on at Darven in awe, clapping along with the crowd and praising him. They all thought it was a part of the show. “ It wasn’t a part of the show ,” Merlin told Affodill, interrupting her conversation with Arthur. She stopped clapping and looked at Merlin in confusion. “ The lion was going straight for Arthur .” “ But it stopped? ” Affodill asked. “ I stopped it, my magic told me something was off, or else it would have been too late ,” Merlin explained. Affodill looked at him with wide eyes, slightly afraid. “ Arthur just told me he’d pick Darven ,” she replied, her face turning horrified. “ No. You need to tell him to stop. ” “Merlin, did you listen to anything I’ve said?” Arthur interrupted, his mouth set in a tight line, indicating that he was annoyed. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Merlin asked, looking back at Darven, who had already cleared the arena. “ I’ve already told him it was a brilliant idea ,” Merlin turned to Affodill, who looked pale and frightened. “ Forgive me, Emrys, what do we do? ” “Forget it,” Arthur huffed and turned away, his arms crossing over his chest. “ I would have vouched for him if he weren’t hell-bent on killing Arthur ,” Merlin told her. He could deal with Arthur and his mood swings later. “ I'll convince Arthur to not pick him ,” Merlin tried to stay positive, Arthur might look like he doesn't care, but he’ll listen at least. Arthur picked him. Not only did he pick him, but he was also admiring him. “What about Lora? She’s decent and respectful. Or, or Muriel, she’s very fiery. Heck, Elfryn wasn’t bad. Just, not Darven,” Merlin said, walking faster to catch up. “No Merlin, Darven is great,” They were at Arthur’s chambers at this point, and he told Merlin to take off his armor. “He isn’t very trustworthy. He gave off this weird feeling,” Merlin tried to explain, whilst removing Arthur’s chainmail. “How could you possibly know that, Merlin?” Merlin hastily removed his gambeson, trying to keep Arthur’s face covered while trying to think of a reason. “Um, Affodill told me.” “Oh yes, of course, she did,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. “What else did she tell? Or were you too busy staring at each other? ” Merlin paused, confused. Arthur was looking at him with something Merlin couldn’t name. Anger? Why would he be angry? “I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Merlin replied, stepping away to pick out Arthur’s robes for the fest. Arthur let out a scoff, crossing his arms and waiting for Merlin to pick. “Of course you don’t,” Arthur said, his voice a bit lower than usual. Merlin turned and raised a questioning eyebrow, but Arthur was already glaring at Merlin. “Where’s this coming from?” Merlin asked, turning around and scanning his closet. Merlin picked out a white tunic and black trousers and a belt and decided to pair it with Arthur’s silver crown. The combination would bring out his eyes, and it was a bit different than usual. Merlin turned and gestured Arthur to raise his arms, who complied, although with a foul expression. “Oh I don’t know,” Arthur began, his voice getting muffled as Merlin struggled to get the tunic over his head. “Maybe because you ignored me the whole tournament,” Merlin pulled hard, making Arthur grunt. “And was busy smiling and staring like a love-sick fool,” Arthur said, just as Merlin finally got the tunic over his gigantic head. “I’m sorry what?” Merlin exclaimed, his brows shooting up. Arthur just stared at him, glowering. “I am not,” emphasized Merlin, “in love with Affodill and neither is she. And that isn’t even the point!” Merlin shoved the trousers to Arthur’s arm, moving away from him. His face was still pinched, and Merlin couldn’t fathom why. “Pray to tell, Merlin, what is the point?” Arthur asked, putting on his trousers. He looked away, scowling. “God lord Arthur, I’m trying to look out for you,” Merlin replied, frustrated. “Darven is out here to kill you, and I’m not going to stand by and watch him do it! Just pick someone else, please,” Merlin begged, his patience running out. Arthur paused, his expression morphing into one of confusion. “You have no proof of that,” Arthur said. “I’m picking Daven and that’s it.” Merlin gaped, very well aware of how he probably looked like a fish. Arthur turned away, grabbing his sword belt, and fastening it around himself. Fine. Merlin squared his shoulders, picking up Arthur’s ceremonial sword, obviously checking it before handing it over. He picked up Arthur’s crown from his drawers, and placed it on the table, not bothering to place it on Arthur’s head himself. Arthur still had to wear his cape and boots, but Merlin didn’t care right now. “If you’ll excuse me, sire,” Merlin said and didn’t wait for an answer. Merlin ignored Arthur for the whole feast. He did his job as a servant but didn’t speak to Arthur. He was too busy being mad and glaring at Darven. Besides Arthur sat Affodill, who tried to refill her goblet on her own. Her plate wasn’t as full as the others, she refused to eat more than she had to. Merlin rushed over and took the jug away from her, reminding her that she didn’t have to do that. “Did you manage to convince him?” She whispered as soon as Merlin was near. Merlin shook his head. “He won’t listen to me,” Merlin whispered back. “I’ll try to-” “Merlin,” Arthur yelled. “My goblet’s empty,” he gestured to his goblet. Merlin sighed and moved over to refill Arthur’s goblet, which was in fact half full. Snob. Darven was seated with the other competitors, who were offering their compliments. Merlin continued to observe him from the shadows, make sure to follow his every move. He wasn’t doing anything suspicious, which was suspicious on its own. Darven caught Merlin’s eye, who didn’t break eye contact. Merlin tried to convey his distaste through his stare, but Darven just turned away and continued conversing with the ones around him. The night was spent similarly. Affodill would call Merlin over to discuss their plans, Arthur would interrupt, and Merlin would observe Darven at every opportunity. “How long will you stay?” Merlin whispered to Affodill, who had signaled him over to refill her glass. “I leave once things are settled. Arthur had asked me to evaluate the person he chooses,” Affodill whispered back. Arthur once again interrupted their conversation, and Merlin wasn’t having it. “Okay that’s enough wine for you,” Merlin said, refusing to refill his glass. Arthur was already half-drunk, his demeanor loses and his words slurring. “We’re leaving.” “Wineee,” Arthur slurred. Merlin sighed and shook his head. For a King, Arthur was a very sloppy drunk. Merlin needed to get him out of here before he made a fool of himself. Merlin waved at Leon, the only one who was sensible enough to not get drunk. Merlin gestured towards Arthur and the exit, and Leon nodded in understanding. Leon was Arthur’s most trusted knight, he’ll take care of the rest. Lancelot was also a good option, but he was too busy making heart eyes at Gwen. “I’m sorry, I need to get him out of here,” Merlin told Affodill, who smiled. “The night is still young, please enjoy,” Merlin said. “Oh, I will, Em- Merlin. Look after your King,” Affodill said, shooting him away. “Merlinnn,” Arthur whined, leaning on Merlin as he tried to get him to stand up. Merlin sagged under his weight, but no one seemed to notice, too drunk or otherwise occupied to care. “Sire,” Merlin grunted, trying to make Arthur walk. “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Merlin said, leading him away from the hall. “Hmm bed,” Arthur sighed, resting his head on Merlin’s shoulder. He tightened his arms around Merlin, nuzzling his neck. Merlin tried to calm his heart, which was currently threatening to burst out of his chest. A very unfortunate end for the greatest sorcerer. They arrived at Arthur’s door after minutes of stumbling and pulling and pushing. Merlin propped Arthur against the bed, trying to keep him upright as he stripped him off of his clothes. Merlin removed his sword belt and crown placing them on the side table for now. He picked up Arthur’s nightclothes and tried to get Arthur out of his clothes, but he wouldn’t budge. “Merlin noo,” Arthur said, his eyes drooping. “You didn’t do it.” “I didn’t do what?” “Crown me,” Arthur said, dragging the last word. Merlin frowned, his head tilting to his side in confusion. “Crown me,” Arthur said, smiling and pointing towards his crown. Merlin looked back and forth between the crown and Arthur, who wore a hopeful expression. Merlin swore to never let Arthur get drunk again. Merlin sighed and picked up the crown and placed it on Arthur’s head, who smiled even wider. “So you’re not mad anymore?” “No, Arthur, I’m not mad, only worried,” Merlin explained. Arthur’s face dropped, his eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t be,” he said and reached up to ruffle Merlin’s hair. Merlin would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good. Arthur fell back on the bed, ignoring Merlin’s protests. “You can’t sleep with your crown on-” Merlin’s protests were answered with snores. Merlin rolled his eyes and tugged the crown away, and then tucking in Arthur. He placed the crown in its drawer and his sword on the arms table then blew out the candles. “Goodnight, Arthur.” Merlin wasn’t sure what he expected would happen after the tournament, but it wasn’t this. This was Arthur and Darven laughing and chatting like old friends, while Darven showed off his very much basic skills in magic. But Arthur didn’t know that. He was hanging on to every word and action of Darven. And no, Merlin wasn’t jealous. He was stronger and more powerful than Darven. There was nothing to be jealous of. “He’s great,” Arthur said, watching Darven and Affodill speak. Affodill was trying to crack Darven’s motives and plans as per Merlin’s request. Lancelot was doing the same whenever Merlin or Affodill weren’t around. Merlin followed Darven around everywhere. (No, Merlin wasn’t stalking, he was only observing. And it isn't wrong until you get caught). It bugged him to no end that Darven was normal. He stayed in the castle and always kept it to himself. A sweep of his ‘official’ chambers gave no magical items or harmful substances or anything. Merlin’s theory was that he meant to kill Arthur in the tourney, but didn’t count on his plan failing. And now he was confused. “He isn’t great,” Merlin replied, slightly annoyed. The worst of all, Arthur didn’t shut up about his “skills.” If Merlin didn’t know any better, he’d say Arthur liked Darven. Like like. “Forget it, Merlin, your pea-sized brain couldn’t comprehend greatness,” Arthur said, taking a seat at the Round Table. Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s creativity. It was an unofficial meeting, only filled with Arthur, Affodill, Darven, and Gaius. Gwen was present too, she being Affodill’s temporary maid despite Affodill’s protests. Today was going to be Darven’s first interview, and Merlin couldn’t wait. He had a list of questions prepared, which he would tell Affodill telepathically. “So, Darven, how long have you been practicing magic?” Affodill asked, giving Merlin a short nod. “Be honest, please,” Arthur added. “One year,” Darven said in his annoyingly high pitched voice. Arthur nodded, and so did Affodill. “Which element do you practice in?” Affodill asked. “Fire, mostly, and sometimes air,” Darven answered. “Who taught you?” Darven hesitated. “This is an interview, Darven, not an integration. Please don’t be afraid,” Arthur reassured. Darven looked at Affodill, who nodded. “My lord, I lived with the Druids as a child,” Affodill raised a criticizing eyebrow, but Darven didn’t flinch. “I left them when things got a bit… hard, and tried to suppress my magic for a long time.” “I see, very well,” Affodill said, her eyes catching Merlin’s. “ I’m not sure if I trust that he’s a Druid ,” Affodill whispered telepathically. Merlin tilted his head in confusion. “ His magic is wrong, I wonder how I missed it, it’s always been there ,” she elaborated. Merlin turned to continue glaring at Darven, determined to at least make him feel unwelcome. Darven blissfully ignored him. “ Ask why he believes he’s fit to serve the King ,” Merlin instructed. Affodill nodded and repeated the question. “I’ve protected myself all these years, I like to think I’m capable enough.” “That isn’t the same thing,” Merlin spoke out loud. Arthur rolled his eyes and turned, giving him a pointed look. “I think, what Merlin means to say, sire, is that he’ll have to protect all of Camelot, not just himself,” Affodill spoke up. Merlin really liked her. Why couldn’t she be the Court Sorcerer again? “That would include placing protective charms on the castle walls, vaults, dungeons, and all that,” Merlin further stated. “As Affodill told me, isn’t that right?” Merlin added as an afterthought because Arthur was giving him a weird look. Merlin didn’t like that look. But that just seemed to sour Arthur’s mood, and Merlin wondered if Arthur suspected. When Affodill nodded, Arthur looked away, jaw clenched. “I’m sure my charms will hold,” Darven replied, oblivious to everyone’s mood. “Well, that concludes the interview. You’re hired,” Arthur declared. “But my lord, there are some more questions-” Affodill began to protest. Arthur ignored her, standing up and clasping his hands together. “Meeting adjourned.” “Arthur wait-” Merlin tried to stop Arthur from just walking away from an unfinished meeting, but Arthur just ignored him. “Can I leave?” Darven asked, still oblivious to Merlin’s mood. “Leave,” Merlin said, making sure to let all his hatred for that guy bleed into his voice. Darven just shrugged and left, leaving Merlin with a very confused Gwen, a baffled Affodill, and a resigned Gaius. “Well, that’s that,” Gaius said, and got up and left. Not him too! “Okay, what is going on right now,” Merlin asked, very confused and frustrated. Affodill shrugged. “Alright, Gwen, could you please go talk to that clotpole?” “I think you should, he'd listen,” Gwen replied, lips falling into a thin line. “Nonsense. Please?” Merlin asked, trying to do his best kicked-puppy expression despite his sour mood. It worked. Gwen sighed and nodded, leaving. “That went well,” Affodill stated, getting up from her chair. “I’ll just-” she gestured towards the door, seemingly waiting for Merlin to dismiss her, for some reason. “Just go,” Merlin waved her off. He slammed his head back to the wall and winced at the pain. The doors closed behind her, the sound echoing through the empty hall. Merlin left out a long sigh, contemplating ways to end someone’s life without committing actual murder. Even if Merlin did figure out how, he'd have a hard time deciding who to kill, Darven, Arthur, or himself? His magic sored, aching to be let free. His surroundings were a dull grey. He was alone, once more. Merlin could feel his magic tingling beneath his skin, the only barrier between his magic and destruction. It was begging him to let go. What would it feel like, letting his magic take control? Merlin felt numb. Should he care about the consequences? No. He won’t. He let go. Merlin slowly opened his eyes, feeling weirdly at peace. The dream didn’t leave him desperately grabbing the sheets or thrashing around like a man possessed. It felt like a normal dream. But that was wrong. He shouldn’t feel calm after thinking about destruction. He shouldn’t be okay with letting go. He should have woken up thrashing. He should have woken up screaming. He doesn’t know what happened after, but he knew it wasn’t something innocent. The thought broke something in him. Sitting on his bed, legs crossed, staring at nothing, felt wrong. Breathing felt wrong. Blinking felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. So he did nothing. His eyes stung from staring for so long, he could feel tears pricking his eyes. He tried to rub them away, only to notice that his hands were shaking. He snapped out of his trance. Somewhere along the line, the sun had already risen. It was time to get up. Gaius was still asleep when Merlin got out of his room. He didn’t want to wake him up. He could skip breakfast, for now, he’ll just nick something from Arthur’s. It was rush hour in the kitchens, and Merlin tried to weave his way through all the servants and cooks without speaking to anybody. The King’s tray was on its usual spot, filled with bacon and eggs and fruits. Merlin picked it up and got out as soon as he could. Arthur was still asleep when Merlin entered, no surprise there. Merlin placed the tray on his desk and moved to the windows to yank the curtains open. “Rise and shine!” Merlin repeated, following the routine. Arthur groaned, turning away from the light. “Get up Arthur, it’s late,” Merlin tried. “Gwen’s at the door, waiting to come in,” Merlin tried again. Arthur only gave him a thumbs up. “Alright, then you won’t mind me doing this,” Merlin picked up a pillow and proceeded to lightly (lies) whack Arthur with it. “Merlin!” Arthur yelled, outraged, and yanked the pillow out of Merlin’s hand. Merlin knew what was coming, and ducked just before the pillow went flying over his head. “This is treason. I’ll have you hanged for this,” Arthur mumbled. “Good morning to you too, sire,” Merlin replied and picked out Arthur’s outfit for the day. Arthur huffed, but got up and sat at his desk, picking at his food. Merlin did his usual routine clean up in silence. He didn’t feel like speaking today. Merlin dressed Arthur once he was done, but didn’t follow him towards the Council Meeting. Maybe he’ll restock Gaius’s herbs today. Gaius was awake and running around the chambers, making Merlin concerned. “Helen’s in labor, but there’s this sickness in the lower town again,” Gaius explained, packing his medical bag. “I’ll go assist her, but could you make the tinctures? I don’t have the time,” Merlin nodded and shooed Gaius out the door, assuring him that he’d get it done. The tinctures weren’t hard to make, it just took a long time to make. He set the paste on the stove and let it boil, which would take a fair amount of time. He’ll chop up some basil leaves in the meantime. “I know your secrets, I know your lies.” It was dark, very dark. Merlin was kneeling on the floor, staring straight ahead. “You can’t hide anymore.” The disembodied voice was just a gruff whisper, coming from far away. Merlin was locked in place, his legs unwilling to cooperate. He stopped struggling. “Why do you care?” Whispered a voice, the same gruff voice, but this time right beside his ear. Merlin didn’t flinch. Why did he care? Should he still care? Merlin opened his eyes once more, this time, still in the main room. He was sitting with his head on the table, the basil leaves long forgotten. Merlin jerked back, looking out the window. He wasn’t asleep for too long. Which was weird, because he doesn’t remember falling asleep. He shook his head and stood up, but couldn’t shake away the numbness he was feeling. It was the same as this morning. These weren’t dreams. They can’t be, it didn’t feel like it. It felt like he was living them. Merlin shook his head again, composing himself. He should finish the tincture as soon as possible. No scratch that, he needs Arthur. Where’s Arthur? Training grounds? No, war council. Merlin doesn’t remember the journey but was now facing the doors of the war council. He could hardly barge in. They’d think something was off. Merlin creaked the door open a bit, and peaked in. Arthur was there, all in one piece. In the middle of a debate with his counselors. He looked fine. Merlin sighed and closed the door, trying to be as silent as possible. He’ll just wait out here. He doesn’t feel like leaving Arthur. “Hello Merlin,” said a familiar voice. “I was waiting for Arthur here, do you need something?” Darven was standing across from him, hands clasped back. “Arthur? It’s King Arthur for you,” Merlin wanted to say but wasn’t sure anymore. They spent way too much time together. “Nothing that concerns you,” Merlin mumbled. Merlin wanted to be as far away as possible from Darven but didn’t want to leave Arthur. Something was telling him to be close to Arthur. Merlin was positive that Darven had something planned. “Merlin, Merlin,” he said, in a sing-song voice, standing beside Merlin, and sneaked an arm around his shoulder. Merlin’s magic flared beneath his skin, screaming to be let to, to protect, to hurt. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you don’t like me,” ever since he's got a taste of Darven's magic, his own has been protesting his existence. Merlin ducked from under his arm, trying to escape. “Good, just so we’re clear,” Merlin replied, backing away even if he didn’t want to leave Arthur. His magic still hadn’t calmed down. Any longer, Merlin doubts that Darven would be left standing. He needs to leave. Preferably now. He turned back and tried to keep his walking pace normal. But once he turned around the corner, he ran. He ran until he was out of the castle, jogged once he left the citadel, and began running once more until he reached the gates of Camelot. Forest , the forest now . Once he was deep enough (he probably wasn’t but he barely could keep it in), he let go. Merlin could barely see anything, but felt his magic leave and lay around his surroundings like a blanket. A blanket that brought death instead of comfort. His knees gave out and he sagged to the ground. A couple of deep breaths later, he worked up the nerve to assess the damage. A circle of charred ground extended for about five feet of the radius. The trees were still erect, but dead. The slimy mud dried up, leaving cracks on the leveled ground. The area was dead. Merlin felt his eyes water a little. This was why he didn't tell Arthur about his magic. He’d go to great lengths to make sure Arthur was safe. His magic would do the same. Merlin’s magic sometimes had a mind of its own, always making sure to protect him in its own harsh way. He was shit at healing. But Merlin would be damned if he didn’t try to reverse his destruction. Merlin leaned forward, placing his hands on the ground. The layers below were barren. He could still feel the tendrils of magic from the earth, but they were faint. It would be enough. He’s heard about borrowing magic from the ground, but for now, he’d return it. He’s pretty sure he’s exhausted most of his magic by doing so, but it’s nothing a good night’s rest could fix. The earth accepted his apology. The magic wouldn’t return the patch of ground to its original state, but the ground wouldn’t be left barren. New life would grow here, someday. The way back was torture. He couldn’t walk straight. His legs felt like lead. His arms probably fell off somewhere, or at least that’s what it felt like. His head probably exploded somehow. Merlin wasn’t sure. To the outside world, he probably looked drunk. He could hardly care. If he could, he’d probably fall asleep right the fucking now. He’s pretty sure he’s running on autopilot. He doesn’t remember entering the citadel. “Merlin,” a voice called out from behind him. He couldn’t care less, just kept walking. Bed, now. The voice called out again, closer this time. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone again? “Merlin, you look dead,” said the voice, now right next to him. Merlin felt an arm around his shoulder and two fingers on his neck and feared it was Darven again. Stupid, stupid, Darven. He turned to check, and it was only Lancelot. Sweet, sweet , Lancelot. Sweet, noble Lancelot. Lancelot would understand if he passed out now, right? “Sleep, bed,” yeah, he’d understand. “Thanks,” Merlin slurred and passed out. Merlin couldn’t see a thing. Something cold encircled his wrist. Shackles. His legs felt numb. He was aware that he was on the floor, laying on his side. Something was off. He felt empty. He tried to reach for it, but it wasn't there. It just... wasn't. That was the first time Merlin woke up thrashing in the past two days. For a second, he felt the lines between dreams and reality overlap. He couldn’t see anything. His legs were numb. He still felt empty. No, he couldn’t see anything because it was dark. He couldn’t feel his legs because he was tired from running too much. He felt empty because he exhausted almost all of his magic. He tried to check his wrist to check. He couldn’t move anymore. He was tied down or held down. The darkness made it hard to see, but Merlin didn’t care. He resumed thrashing and kicking, and the thing holding him down grunted wherever Merlin managed to kick it. He wanted his magic back. “Merlin, Merlin stop,” the thing said in a familiar tone. “It’s Arthur, stop kicking you moron,” oh. Merlin stopped struggling, his body finally going limp from exhaustion. He checked again, and yes, his magic was safe. Only exhausted. “What,” Merlin gasped out, his voice hoarse, only just realizing how thirsty he was. “Water.” “Are you going to start kicking again?” Arthur asked, easing his weight off Merlin. Merlin shook his head but doubted that Arthur could see. Merlin heard the familiar strike of matchsticks on a matchbox, and the room was soon illuminated in a soft, yellow glow. Arthur, dressed in his usual tunic, handed Merlin a glass. Merlin took it with shaky hands and gulped it all down. “So, care to explain?” Arthur sat down on the chair next to his bed, crossing his arms. Merlin struggled to sit up, but eventually propped himself against the wall. “I was… drunk?” Merlin answered, feeling a bit guilty. Arthur only raised an eyebrow, his mouth set in a disapproving line. “Try again.” “I was really drunk. Probably spent my entire salary on drinks,” Merlin hated the tavern excuse. But Merlin’s pretty sure he looked rat arsed anyways. “They told me you looked dead , not drunk,” Arthur said, his voice cracking on the ‘dead’. Merlin couldn’t bear looking at Arthur anymore, feeling like a rebellious child under a hurt parent’s gaze. “So,” Arthur said, “what were you doing,” he demanded, emphasizing every word. Merlin ran out of excuses. So he stayed silent. Arthur waited for a beat before sighing and leaning forward, his elbows now resting on his knees. “Is it so hard to tell me the truth?” Yes. Merlin still didn’t dare to speak. Arthur finally gave up. He stood up, the sound of his chair scraping disrupting the heavy silence. “Stay here, don’t you dare move,” Arthur commanded in his ‘I’m-a-king-follow-my-orders’ voice. As if Merlin had the energy to do anything else. Arthur closed the door behind him, and Merlin was once again left alone. He should probably check how well his magic was doing, but it was hard to move his arms. He continued to stare in silence. Arthur came back, but with Darven at his heels. Fucking Darven. His magic despises him just as much as Merlin does. His mere presence gets on every one of his nerves. “What is he doing here,” Merlin demanded, somehow finding the strength to sit up straight. “Relax, he’s here to look over you,” Arthur said, stepping aside to let Darven in. “Get Gaius, he’s better,” Merlin said. Darven only smirked. He had the audacity to smirk. Merlin was about to strangle him, his fatigue can be damned. “Think of it as a test, a Court Sorcerer needs to know a few healing spells,” Arthur replied, leaning against the door frame. “You’ll just have to be my guinea pig,” Arthur smirked, and Merlin knew he had more than enough strength to strangle both of them. “I’m not your guinea pig!” Merlin threw his hands up in outrage. “Ask your other guinea pigs! They’ll be lining up to impress you!” “Ah you see, that’s why you’re my favorite guinea pig,” Arthur fucking winked and left, closing the door behind him. Merlin glared at the door, albeit a bit glad that they were back to their easy banter. He directed the glare at Darven, making sure to look as intimidating as possible. “And you- get out, and stay away,” Merlin gritted out, pointing an accusing finger at Darven. Darven shrugged and looked amused, strutting forward, and seating himself on the bed. “Come on Merlin, don’t be like that,” Darven said. He reached out, but Merlin jerked away from him. “So tell me,” Darven said, his brown eyes turning hard. “Why do you hide?” “It doesn’t concern you,” Merlin gritted out, hating every second of this. Merlin knew that he could probably run if he absolutely had to, but it would hurt like hell. His legs and arms were sore from running, his head was still pounding, but he had enough strength to leave the room. Merlin hoped Arthur would be on the other side. “I’m pretty sure the well being of magical folk does concern me,” Darven said. “An outburst of that size was felt by almost every magical folk, don’t act innocent.” “I think you’ll see that I really don’t care,” Merlin said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d leave.” “I’m sorry, my lord ,” Darven said ‘my lord’ the same way Merlin would call Arthur ‘sire’ or ‘my liege’, but it lacked every ounce of warmth Merlin would put behind those words. “But I do care.” Darven’s eyes flared gold, his mouth murmuring an unknown spell. Merlin felt himself being pinned down to the bed, the weight of the world crushing his arms and legs. Merlin’s eyes flared a brighter gold, flinging Darven off the bed. The weight on his limbs remained, somehow heavier. Darven got up and grabbed a pitcher nearby, which Merlin flung out of his arms. The weight got heavier. Merlin felt weaker by the second, his magic still hasn’t fully recovered. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. Merlin attempted to pin Darven on the wall with his magic, but only managed to knock him off his feet. Merlin cried out when he felt the weight get even heavier. “There’s no point. The pain only gets worse every time you use magic,” Darven explained, getting back on his feet. How was Arthur not hearing anything? Merlin couldn’t care less, his eyes flaring gold again. This time he aimed to choke Darven. Darven’s arms raised to his neck, gasping for breath. The spell on Merlin stuck again, this time he’s sure he heard his bones crack. Merlin released the hold on Darven, unable to bear the pain. He knew he was seconds away from losing hold of his magic and consciousness. Where is Arthur? “What have you done to Arthur?” Merlin asked with the last of his strength, his voice barely above a whisper. Darven coughed, taking deep, shallow breaths. Merlin could barely keep his eyes open, his limbs were still being crushed. Merlin felt his vision blur around his edges. He couldn’t hear Darven’s answer before passing out. Merlin woke up, detached. He couldn’t feel his arms and legs. His throat was sore and scratchy. His head was heavy, his eyes drooping down from the weight. Merlin succumbed to darkness once more. The next time he woke, it was to a sharp, prickling sting on his left cheek. It kept disappearing and appearing and was fairly annoying if you asked Merlin. “Wha-,” Merlin tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan. “Ah, you’re up Emrys! Welcome back!” said a suspiciously honeyed voice. Merlin, with great difficulty, peered his eyes open. He was once again in a dark room, the floor was cold and hard. He strained his eyes, trying to get a better look at the room. In the dark, he could make out a figure in front of him. Darven, again. Merlin felt sick at this point. No, like actually sick. He could feel the bile rise his throat, whether, for the pain or Darven, he did not know. He tramped it down, not really strong enough to puke. “I have to say, the legends were true,” Darven said from his crouched position. “You should probably be dead by now, but here we are.” “What do you want,” even speaking hurt. His throat felt like sand. “Not really a fan of chit-chat, but anyways, I’ll have to kill you,” Darven replied, getting up. Merlin could hear the faint murmur of a spell, and the candles around the room lit up. Theatrics , Merlin wanted to roll his eyes. “Why?” Merlin asked, despite the soreness of his throat. He tried to relieve the pressure by magic and realized that something was wrong. He tried again, but there was nothing under his skin. He was stripped bare from inside-out, his magic locked away somewhere deeper. He couldn’t feel the small pricklings of magic. It was somewhere inside his core, dormant. He felt empty and cold. This probably hurt the most. Merlin looked down, finally noticing his cold writs. The numbness in his arms did a good job of ignoring it. Shackles. Cold iron shackles. Merlin felt a sense of dread settle low in his stomach. He was completely, utterly, defenseless. He did puke this time, angling his head away. It hurt to do it, his muscles aching from every heave and breath. “Emrys, you’re basically the ruler of the magical world,” Darven said, wincing at Merlin’s pain, but continuing. “No one likes a tyrant, but neither does one like a negligent King.” Merlin could vaguely understand what he was saying. True, he’s never been very much attached to the magical world, too busy running after Arthur. But he hasn’t neglected it either. He loves it. He’ll save it. “Somehow you manage to be both. Taking from it and never giving back,” Merlin frowned, confused. “I’ll promise you, I can do better.” Oh, so that’s what this is about. Power. God, he wants Arthur to be here. He’s better at this anyway. “Well, the sad part is, a lot of magical creatures seem to favor you. For absolutely no reason.” Darven was now moving around, arranging things on his table. The candlelights made it easier to look. The table looked suspiciously like a sacrificial altar. It probably was. “The Druids would have my neck if I harm their precious little lord.” Darven picked up something that looked sharp, probably a knife. On his other hand was a cloth, which he used to clean it. Darven muttered another spell, and the candles flickered for a second. No, that wasn’t what the spell was for. The knife glowed blue for a second, seeming brighter in the darkness. Once the glow subdued, the candles relit themselves. Merlin thought back on the fight in his chambers. Darven did not attempt to counteract his attacks with magic. Almost like… Almost like he could hold only one spell at a time. The recent discovery would be very much useful, only if Merlin wasn’t bound in cold iron shackles. “Which is the exact purpose of this ritual!” Darven said, cheerfully. He once again extinguished all the candles, sending the room into pitch-black darkness. He then began lighting them manually. He realized his mistake , Merlin thought gleefully. “I’ll just have to pluck out your heart and store your blood as proof that I’ve defeated you,” Darven explained once done. Alright, now escape plan. His body still hurt like hell, so running away wasn’t an option. His feet were left unbound, for some reason. Kicking was still an option, only if his bones weren’t too severely damaged. The one thing that bothered Merlin the most was that his magic was cut off. He was used to being magical. This was just wrong. “Water?” Merlin asked, his throat constricting painfully at the thought. Darven shrugged as if saying ‘you’re gonna die anyway, why not’ and poured him a glass, placing it in front of him. He resumed whatever he was doing. Merlin couldn’t see, he was turned away from Merlin. Much pain from protesting bones and muscles and a hundred positions later, Merlin was able to bring the cup to his lips without seriously damaging everything. His throat protested the sudden intake of fluids at first, the pain somehow doubling. But once that subsided, Merlin felt somewhat better. At least his throat was finally co-operating. “So, let me get this straight,” Merlin said, his voice still hoarse. “You want to kill me because you think you’d be a better King than me? And for that, you need my heart and blood?” “Yes.” “Here buddy, you’re wrong. First off, I’m no King,” Merlin said, aiming to annoy him with his chatter. It always worked on Arthur. “Second, you wanna be King? Sure go ahead, don’t let me stop you.” “It doesn’t work that way.” “Why? I don’t mind someone as self-centered as you being King,” Merlin’s chatter seemed to affect him a bit if the tensing of his shoulders was anything to go by. “Will you shut up? The creatures won’t accept me. They’ll need proof.” “You don’t need proof, I’m giving it up to you.” Darven turned back, startled. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” Uh, no. Merlin did not. “Yes, obviously.” His back hurt from lying on the hard ground for so long. Everything hurts. Shifting positions wasn’t an option, it’ll make the pain worse. Darven scoffed, turning away. “Yeah sure, you’ll totally give up your title without a fight.” “Titles mean nothing to me. I’m sure you’ve seen me disrespecting Arthur countless times.” Darven turned back once again, his gaze assessing. “You’re pathetic aren’t you? You really just don’t care.” “Yes, pathetic, that’s me,” Merlin said, aiming for a cheeky grin, but it probably came across as a grimace. “I still want to kill you,” Darven said. “You’ll die anyway, we’ll just go with the ritual.” “But then you won’t have the satisfaction of calling me a coward.” Darven was quiet for a second and then huffed out what seemed like a laugh. “You’re having me on, aren’t you? It won’t work on me, fool.” He went back to whatever he was doing. Merlin’s only plan backfired. Darven was smarter than he seemed. “Alright, what about Arthur?” Merlin continued talking, exploiting his only weapon. “What about him?” “What did you do to him?” “Nothing. I really couldn’t care less about him,” Darven said, shrugging. “I just had to keep him out of the way. Nothing but a sleeping spell, I promise.” Merlin narrowed his eyes on Darven’s back. He seriously underestimated Arthur’s abilities. Arthur would have regained consciousness by the time Darven used that spell on Merlin if his previous discovery was anything to go by. And then would be assessing the damage in Merlin’s room. He’d know something was wrong. Merlin just hoped that he knew where he was. Can Merlin still call the dragon? Was his Dragonlord heritage blocked out by the chains? Kilgharrah would be the last resort, Merlin decided. Just because magic was allowed doesn’t mean that people would accept the fact that a great gigantic lizard was flying around. Arthur and his Knights would just poke metal sticks at it in confusion, positive he’s already slain the dragon. Also, Merlin wasn’t sure how close he was to civilization. The people of Camelot wouldn’t survive another attack. Darven clapped his hands, pulling Merlin out of his thoughts. Darven got up, walking over to Merlin and crouching so that he was hovering over Merlin. “Ready?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer, hauled Merlin to his feet. Merlin cried out louder than ever, his feet were severely damaged. Merlin must have passed out from the pain, because the next thing he knew, he was lying on the altar, facing up. Darven was standing to his left, chanting something under his breath. Merlin suddenly felt something tingle at his core, a flicker of warmth. Merlin lost himself to the feeling, closing his eyes and basking in it for as long as it lasted. When he opened his eyes once more, Darven had his arms raised over his head, hands around the hilt of the knife. Merlin tried to shift from his position, before realizing that he was magically pinned down to the altar. “ O drakon ,” Merlin began, disappointed that his voice wasn’t his usual deep undertone. “ E male so ftengometta ,” Merlin continued chanting, but he knew it was fruitless. His Dragonlord powers were tied to his magic. Darven halted mid chant, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “ ... tesd'hup ' “ Merlin continued, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes swelling with tears. He couldn’t get out of this. He’d never see Arthur again, would never be able to tell Arthur the truth. “ Anankes… ” Merlin finished, rather pathetically. And like clockwork, the door to the room burst open, the clanking of armor reaching his ears before his eyes could comprehend the sight before him. “Merlin,” yelled out a slightly startled Arthur. His armor was disheveled as if he put it on by himself. His hair was disarray, his face constricted in horror. Despite this, he still looked like the regal King he was. His armor shined, adding a sense of glamour to him. His eyes were hard and horrified, which later dissolved into pure fury. Merlin must look like hell, he realized. But he smiled anyway, this time a genuine one because Arthur was somehow here . Arthur moved his gaze from Merlin to Darven, noticing the knife perched high above. The growl he let out was purely feral and charged forward. Darven side-stepped Arthur’s sword, finally recovering from the shock. The room was small, and Arthur, in no time, had Darven against a wall. Darven, finally muttered another spell, sending Arthur flying to the opposite wall. Merlin cried out in outrage, craning his head to check on Arthur, ignoring his protesting muscles. He was fine, struggling against the invisible restraints. But Merlin was finally free. The shackles were still there, but he could move. Darven, after catching his breath, moved forward, crouching down to pick up Arthur’s sword. “Look, Arthur, I really have nothing against you,” Darven said, testing the weight of the sword. He’s clearly never held one before, awkwardly trying to find the best grip. He even tried to hold it like a dagger, accidentally pointing the sword towards him rather than Arthur. Merlin had to hold back his snort. Arthur, on the other hand, did not. He was still struggling against his magic, but his mouth betrayed a snort of amusement. Darven glared at Arthur, who sobered up quickly. The Knights should be here soon, and things would be fine. But something about Arthur’s expression said otherwise. To anyone else, he looked angry and furious. But Merlin could make out the lines of worry that faintly graced his features. “You cabbage head!” Merlin yelled in outrage, attracting the attention of the other two. Arthur must have realized that Merlin knew he came alone if the grimace was anything to go by. “You utter, idiotic, moron! ” “Sorry,” Arthur murmured, ducking his head down. Merlin didn’t know where he got his energy from, but he suddenly sat up, nearly crying from the pain. His breaths were deep and shallow, his legs yelling at him to give them a break. “Merlin stop! You’re hurting-” “No, you stop being so stupid!” Merlin kept yelling. Darven was looking at him like he'd lost his mind, but Merlin didn’t care. Merlin stopped trying to move, knowing that any more pain and he’d pass out. His eyes were already growing heavy from exhaustion and his throat was once again drying up. Dammit. He needed his magic. Darven stopped looking confused, his features turning amused instead. Merlin could feel tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall over. The situation was so hopeless. There was nothing he could do with Arthur pinned against the wall and his limbs immobile. “Stop, Darven. Just. Stop,” Merlin said. “I’ll go willingly. Leave him.” “Shut up Merlin,” Arthur yelled, struggling once again against the restraints. Darven raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating. Something in Merlin’s expression must have screamed his desperation because Darven changed courses and stood in front of him. “How do I know he won’t kill me after I kill you?” Merlin was whacking his brain for some sort of witty answer but came up with none. Merlin felt his throat dry up once again, this time, the pain worsened. “Exactly,” Darven said and went back to Arthur. The grip on the sword was still awkward, but it was enough to seriously harm. Merlin could feel his eyes burning, this time with angry tears, along with his magic. It was muted, still struggling against its cage. His skin felt hot, his palms even more so. Arthur was staring straight at Merlin, his expression full of regret. Perhaps for having to end things this way. Merlin was now crying freely, his tears burning against his already hot cheeks. His hands were burning up, impossibly so. Merlin shifted his gaze to Darven, who was slowly angling Arthur’s sword backward. Merlin was sure he was shouting profanities, his throat hurt like hell. There was an annoying buzz in his ears, leaving him detached from the outside world. He was almost positive his hands were on fire. None of it mattered. Time slowed down, but Merlin had nothing to do with it. Merlin cursed his legs for being injured. Merlin cursed the shackles for restraining his magic. Merlin cursed himself for being so weak. Merlin cursed destiny for making him watch. Watch as Darven slowly brought the sword close to Arthur. Watch as Arthur only had eyes for him. The flesh on his wrists was prickling like they were being pierced from a thousand pins and needles. The pain was too much. Merlin felt his eyes swell up again, his head pounding. He was forced to break eye contact with Arthur. The iron was glowing. It was red-hot. The burn intensified when Merlin looked at it, the heat seeping from his clothes to his legs and probably scarring the skin there. Merlin didn’t mind, as long as he could break the chains. His wrists would probably suffer life-long damages, but he’ll deal with it later. Merlin didn’t really know that he was screaming until the buzzing in his ears faded away. The chains around his wrist practically exploded, and Merlin could feel his magic again. The relief was short-lived, as he realized that he was overflowing with excess restrained magic. One look at the other two tipped the balance over. The sword had already pierced the first layers of chainmail. Everything was still slowed down, but it wasn’t because of Merlin. He could think about it later. His magic was already working on healing his limbs, and it was too soon to move. He did it anyway. Merlin was on his feet, eyes glowing gold, his hands burning with real fire. He directed the excess magic into his hands, turning them into flames. It built up into a raging fireball, and Merlin sent it flying towards Darven. Draven, in the meantime, had released Arthur and built up a weak shield around himself. The fireball reacted with the shield, shattering it but exhausting the fireball. Merlin turned to look at Arthur, who was propped against the wall, looking at Merlin. Merlin forgot that Arthur didn’t know. In a moment of clarity, Merlin realized he was fucked anyway. Merlin used the few extra seconds to build a shield around Arthur, who was still staring at Merlin with an unreadable expression. Never, in the five years Merlin’s been with Arthur, had he ever seen that one. Merlin tore his gaze away, unable to look any longer. His legs had gained minimum function, enough for him to stand without getting distracted. Darven also utilized the time to build a shield around himself, looking terrified. Good. He should be . Merlin knew the best way to ensure his death was to let his magic take over. The fire in his hands turned into a dragon this time, a parody of Darven’s first magical show. It tested and attacked the boundaries of the shield, which was very strong. The thing about using only one spell at a time meant that the spell you used was the strongest ever. It didn’t matter. He’d break down the shield. He had too much magic, better put it to good use. The dragon attacked the shield, dispersing into a million sparks once it came in contact. Darven smirked, looking satisfied. Merlin summoned two others, sending them flying over. The two disappeared into sparks. “Sorry Emrys looks like it isn’t working,” Darven taunted from behind his shield. Merlin hardly cared. “ Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu ,” Merlin chanted and slammed his fist to the ground, sending the earth surrounding him into a violent shake. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't small. The roof of the hut broke into chunks, falling and littering the ground in debris. Merlin spared a glance at Arthur, who was still alive, the debris falling around the shield. The ground beneath Darven wasn’t protected by his shield, sending Darven into a violent shake, his shield flattering a bit. Merlin used the opportunity to weave a couple of fireballs, making them rain upon his shield, shattering it like glass. Merlin summoned another batch of flames but paused. If Arthur saw him killing first hand, would he ever look at Merlin the same way? Would Arthur fear him, if he killed Darven in cold blood? Would things ever be the same? He couldn’t do this in front of Arthur. He’d realize how much of a monster he was. Darven lay on the ground, defeated. His shield shattered, he was only just another sorcerer. Merlin fell to his knees, exhausted. He’d done it, Arthur probably hated him by now. Merlin only hoped that he didn’t fear him. Merlin kept his eyes on the rise and fall of Darven’s chest. He couldn’t bear to look at Arthur. Something was draining all his energy away. He felt weak and vulnerable. Merlin finally got down from his high. The exhaustion returned tenfold. Merlin vaguely heard a voice calling for him before embracing the darkness. I should probably stop passing out so much, I might turn into Arthur. Someone to Merlin’s left dissolved into a fit of giggles. Merlin’s pretty sure he didn’t speak out loud. Merlin slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred from exhaustion. Merlin could make out a blob of red hair to his left and relaxed. It was only Affodill. Merlin woke up a second time, alone. Deciding that he had no reason to be awake, he let his body relax once more. The third time, he didn’t wake up on his own. It was to something watery forcing its way down his throat. Merlin choked and coughed, finally opening his eyes. It was only Gaius. Merlin welcomed the flow of water into his parched throat, falling asleep soon after, ignoring Gaius. The fourth time, Merlin swore it would be the last one. Merlin forced himself to sit up, stretching his sleep sore muscles. No bones were cracked. Merlin was alone again this time. There was a jar of water next to his bed, and Merlin chugged it down shamelessly. Merlin sat on his bed, unsure of what to do next. He’s had plenty of sleep, of that he’s sure. Anymore he’d probably be forcing his way into a coma. Merlin settled on gently massaging his painfully sore legs. He’s been sore for so long that he’s forgotten what it feels to be normal. His fingers were sore too, which made it harder. Merlin gave up after a few seconds. Bored, he tested out his magic by summoning a flower. Turns out that he summoned a rose, and smiled at the bittersweet memory of Freya. He placed it on the table next to his bed. His stomach growled next. Merlin somehow managed to get on his feet, though every step ached. He made it to the door and pushed it open, startling a poor Gaius to drop his vial. Merlin tried to stop it mid-air but failed. His reflexes needed to be sharpened, dammit. “Merlin,” Gaius exclaimed, giving him one of his rare genuine smiles. He dropped it a second later, his face hardening. “What are you doing out of bed? Go back.” Merlin scratched the back of his head, feeling wrong-footed. Why was he still alive again? Wasn’t he supposed to be executed or exiled or something? “I’m hungry?” Gaius told him to head back to bed, only then he’d get his food. Merlin compiled. Gaius brought him a bowl full of his favorite soup, for which Merlin was glad. He practically inhaled it down, much to Gaius’s dismay. “So, how long was I out?” Merlin asked, setting aside his bowl of soup. “A week, more or less,” Gaius replied. Merlin spluttered. A week? “Now, calm down. How do you feel?” Gaius asked. “Fine, very sore though.” “Merlin,” Gaius started, looking unsure. Ah. So he was going to be executed. “How much do you remember?” Not yet then. “All of it,” Merlin replied, glancing down at his wrist. The skin was charred, the layer of red standing stark against his pale skin. “At least until I passed out.” Gaius nodded. “That’ll probably scar for life, I’m afraid. I would ask you how you burnt cold iron without magic, but knowing you, you probably don’t know,” Gaius sighed, shaking his head. Merlin gave him his best apologetic smile, scratching the back of his head. “How’s your magic?” Gaius asked. “Fine. I could summon that flower,” Merlin said, pointing at the rose on his bedside table. Gaius looked satisfied with that answer. “If you’re worried, Arthur will be here soon,” Gaius said, and Merlin tensed up at those words. “And no, he’s not going to execute you.” “Banishment, then?” Merlin asked, uncertain. “I hardly doubt he’d be fussing over you so much if he was about to exile you,” Gaius said, rolling his eyes. Merlin looked at him in confusion. “What?” “You’ll see,” Gaius said, looking at him weirdly. Once again, like clockwork, there was a loud noise outside of his chambers, sounding like a door banging against the wall. “Merlin!” a voice said, yelling through the wood. Merlin flinched, feeling confused. The door to his chambers was yanked open, and Gaius evacuated his spot from the chair in a hurry. Merlin’s eyes met Arthur’s, who wore his armor and looked like he was training just moments before. Arthur rushed forward, plopping himself on Gaius’s former chair. His eyes were assessing Merlin, lingering on his wrist. Merlin heard the door to his chambers close, leaving Merlin alone with Arthur. He wasn’t exactly sure if that was a good thing. Merlin didn’t know what to say, and by the looks of it, so did Arthur. “Your armor’s crooked,” Merlin blurted out for no reason, clamping his mouth shut. Arthur huffed out something close to a laugh, and Merlin relaxed. And then Mr. ‘I’m-so-manly-I-do-not-do-affections’ yanked Merlin into possibly the worst hug Merlin’s ever had to experience. The breastplate clacked painfully against his chin, Arthur smelled like his after training glory, and Merlin probably smelled worse. But that didn’t matter, because Arthur was hugging him with strong, sure arms. It wasn’t just a little arm around his shoulder or a pat on his back, it was a full hug. And Merlin would enjoy every second of it. Merlin snaked his arms around Arthur, holding him just as close. He’s never felt anything better than this. Scratch that, this was the best hug Merlin’s ever got in his life. They stayed like that for a few seconds, before slowly pulling away. And now it was awkward. Arthur cleared his throat and looked away, Merlin doing the same. Merlin was too busy checking out his nails to notice that Arthur was full-on glaring at the rose at Merlin’s table. “So,” Arthur said, his voice dangerously sharp. Merlin looked up to see that Arthur was wearing a close off expression, but couldn’t fathom why. “Someone’s got you flowers.” “There’s only one flower,” Merlin deadpanned. Arthur’s expression hardened further. Wrong thing to say. “Let me guess, Gwaine? Affodill?” “What, no-” “Lancelot, wasn’t it? No, he’s in love with Gwen,” Arthur went on. “Wait, you know?” Merlin asked. “What? Of course, I do,” Arthur said, giving Merlin his signature ‘you’re an idiot’ look. How was Merlin supposed to know that Arthur knew, that Merlin knew, that Lancelot loved Gwen? Why isn’t he angry? “It has to be Gwaine or Affodill.” “What-” Merlin was missing something here. Something he should know, but doesn’t. “What are we doing?” “I’m trying to figure out who you’re in love with. Try to keep up, Merlin. Is it Affodill or Gwaine?” Arthur said, narrowing his eyes into a glare. “Don’t tell me it’s both.” “What no,” Merlin yelled in outrage. He had to keep his mouth shut from blurting out ‘it’s you! it’s you!' but could barely understand why they were having this conversation. “Why are we doing this? Aren’t you supposed to be banishing me or something by now?” Merlin asked, letting his hands cradle his head. He didn’t want to look at Arthur while having this conversation. “Merlin, you. are. an. idiot.” Arthur said, emphasizing every word with a poke to his head. When Merlin finally looked up, it was to Arthur once again giving Merlin his signature ‘you-are-an- idiot’ look. But Merlin could see the hurt in his eyes, making Merlin feel guilty. “Oh yes, I’ll just abandon training and hug the person I’m about to banish,” Arthur continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. And for the first time, Merlin really did feel like an idiot. Merlin could feel a stupid little grin forming around the corners of his mouth, and no force on Earth could stop it. “Oh,” was all Merlin could say, still grinning like an idiot. “Yes, oh,” Arthur mocked, but he too was smiling like an idiot. Well, that’s because they were both idiots. Merlin didn’t think, just pulled Arthur into another hug. It was even better than the last one. “You’re going to be insufferable about the hugging thing, aren’t you?” Arthur asked, but returned the hug anyway. Merlin could practically hear the eye roll. “Yes,” Merlin answered, still grinning like an idiot. They stayed like that for another minute, basking in the warmth of the other. Arthur’s hand was playing with Merlin’s hair, and Merlin loved it. Eventually, the angle got awkward, with Merlin on the bed and Arthur on the chair, and so they pulled away. Arthur opened his mouth but closed it as his eyes caught the rose. “Oh, sod it,” Arthur muttered, before yanking Merlin forward, again, but this time for a kiss. It took a few seconds for Merlin to catch up. Arthur’s lips were on his, soft and chapped. Arthur’s lips were on his. Arthur was kissing Merlin. Merlin gasped, things finally starting to make sense. He then remembered that he was supposed to be kissing back. And so Merlin closed his eyes, tilting his head to get a better angle, and kissed back. If Merlin thought that hugging Arthur was the best feeling in the world, he was wrong. This was the best feeling in the world. Eventually, Arthur pulled away, and Merlin tried to follow his lips to get them back on his, now . Arthur chuckled, peppered two or three kisses, and pulled away again. Merlin was well aware that he was probably smiling like an idiot, but Arthur was too, so it was okay. “Alright, now get some rest,” Arthur said but making no move to move. “I’ll visit again in the evening.” “Fine.” Arthur rolled his eyes, one hand still playing with Merlin’s hair. Merlin leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling of Arthur’s sword-calloused hands massaging his scalp. “Don’t look at me like that,” Arthur complained. “Like what?” Merlin asked. “Like a kicked puppy.” “Then don’t leave,” Merlin grumbled. Arthur chuckled, his hands stroking Merlin’s hair one last time. “Don’t want to. But you still need rest, and that’s an order. We’ll talk later.” Arthur stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. He placed a small kiss on Merlin’s forehead before leaving. Merlin fell back against the bed, feeling giddy. Under his skin, he could feel his magic respond with equal satisfaction. Oh. They still needed to talk about that. Arthur didn’t seem too mad, and Merlin’s grateful for that. Merlin couldn’t wait to show Arthur his magic. Maybe they could go on little picnics where Merlin- Wait. Oh. Going on picnics would mean that they would be courting. Kissing meant they were courting. But Arthur was already courting Gwen. It felt like a million coal bricks were pressing against Merlin’s skin. His chest felt heavy. Merlin groaned and pulled the covers over his head, the sense of guilt growing with every second. He couldn’t do this. Not to Gwen. Things quickly went south after that. Merlin felt awful. He couldn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, he didn’t drink. He barely even wanted to continue breathing. Merlin doesn’t know if he could give up Arthur now, after sharing wonderful kisses and hugs. He couldn’t hurt his best friend either. He fucking kissed his best friend’s partner. He fell in love with him . Gwen was going to be Queen for mercy’s sake. She was Arthur’s true love’s kiss. She was the Once and Future Queen. She was the one supposed to be on Arthur’s side. Merlin was only supposed to be Arthur’s protector. Not his lover. He couldn’t be. He was supposed to be there, in the shadows, being his guardian. He didn’t mind doing that. Hot tears pricked his eyes, but he wasn’t going to cry. Merlin and Arthur shared a destiny, a complicated, hard, cruel destiny, but they weren’t supposed to be. Merlin absolutely knew that he was setting himself up for heartbreak when he fell in love. This was worse. He got a taste of the future that could never be. Now he had to let go. Merlin couldn’t bring himself to talk to anyone for the rest of the day. He feigned sleep whenever he heard someone at the door. He wouldn’t stir when Gaius came into the room to feed him. He just lay there, trying to be perfectly still. And then finally, Arthur entered. Merlin didn’t stir. He heard something fizz behind him but ignored it. Merlin’s back was to Arthur, but he could hear the scrape of a chair and the loud sigh Arthur gave out. “Wake up clotpole, we need to talk,” Arthur said, lightly tapping Merlin’s shoulder. “That’s my word,” Merlin couldn’t help but fall back into old habits. Their banter was the only thing he could rely on for lightning his mood. Arthur laughed, pulling on Merlin’s shoulder until Merlin was laying on his back. “And it suits you perfectly,” Arthur smiled, looking terribly fond. “Arthur,” Merlin began, unsure of how to say it. “We’ll start with the magic,” Arthur prompted, and Merlin was glad. Magic was something he could talk about without crying. He’ll just leave out all the bad things, for now. He’ll confess everything, but just not now. “I’ve had it ever since I was a child,” Merlin explained. “Wow,” Arthur said in disbelief. “I knew you had magic, just not since birth.” “ You what- ” “Come on Mer lin, you aren’t just as stealthy as you think,” said Arthur, giving Merlin one of his teasing smiles. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” Merlin realized he was still laying on the bed, and got up, facing Arthur. That’s when he noticed a bunch of yellow weeds on his desk. Daisies his mind supplied, the voice sounding suspiciously like Gaius. Arthur caught Merlin looking at the daisies, and looked away. “I picked them, like you know, a ‘get better soon’ gift,” Arthur explained. Merlin couldn’t help smile a little at that. “I didn’t tell you because at first, I caught you while you were doing chores,” Dammit. Merlin could feel Gaius’s eyebrow-of-doom. “It was shocking, to say the least.” “You give me too many chores,” Merlin mumbled, the tips of his ears heating up. “And then I eventually came around. I told myself I’d wait until you tell me,” Arthur continued. “But then with Darven… It was… I didn’t know you had that much magic.” His tone was a bit unsure, Merlin didn’t like it one bit. Merlin snapped his head up. “Arthur I’d never hurt you, my magic is for you, to protect you,” Merlin justified, eyes wide. How could Arthur ever think that Merlin would intentionally hurt him? “I figured, with the shield and all,” Arthur said. “One of these days you’re going to tell me everything you did,” he said, his voice firm. Merlin nodded. “I will,” he promised. “I also need you to promise you’ll never again try to do everything by yourself. Let me help,” Arthur said, and Merlin could hear the underlying desperation. Merlin hesitated for a second. Doing things alone meant that no one else would get hurt. If Arthur were to enlist his help, there’s a high chance of him getting hurt. “Merlin, promise me.” “Alright, I’ll try,” Merlin replied at last. “But if I feel like you’d be in danger I won’t,” Merlin could tell that it wasn’t the answer Arthur was expecting, his expression inching towards annoyingness. “I can take care of myself,” Arthur defended. “I know. But there are things that you can’t defend yourself against,” there wasn’t anyone other than Merlin who knew exactly how many times Arthur’s life was actually in danger. “That’s where I come in, to protect you.” They fell into an uneasy silence after that. Merlin wanted to tell Arthur everything, starting from their shared destiny to his undying love for him. He also wanted to explain how it was for the best if they remained friends, Merlin in Arthur’s shadow, protecting him, always. Arthur was slightly frowning, his teeth worrying his lips. He looked like he wanted to ask a lot of questions, but didn’t know how to. Merlin tried his hardest not to look at Arthur’s lips. “What is it?” Merlin asked finally. “Nothing, it’s just… you didn’t like Darven from the start,” Arthur was looking at Merlin as if searching for negative reactions to that name. He wouldn’t find any. “How did you know?” “Well I guess the fact that he tried to kill you during the tournaments was an obvious teller,” Merlin started. “But my, you know,” Merlin waved his hand around, indicating magic, “always reacted badly whenever he was around.” “When did he try to kill me?” Arthur asked confusion written clear in his face. Merlin could feel Arthur review the day of the tournament, going over Darven’s performance. “The lion didn’t disperse by itself,” Merlin prompted. Arthur was still staring at Merlin with pinched eyebrows and pouty lips, looking terribly cute. ‘Stop thinking’ Merlin reminded himself. “Even if it was meant to kill, it wasn’t aimed at me. It was off-centered,” Arthur said, leaning back. His eyes were wide, his eyebrows still furrowed. And then suddenly, “You idiot, it was aimed at you.” Merlin ran through the memory again, but he was sure that the lion was headed towards Arthur. “No, I’m sure it was aimed at you.” “It was after you. Darven was at you from the start. You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” Arthur glared at Merlin, but there wasn’t any heat to it. “That doesn’t make sense. My magic kept telling me to go to you,” Merlin replied. He was sure that Darven had ill intentions towards Arthur. “What happened to him anyway?” “I might have killed him,” Arthur replied. Merlin searched for any signs of regret but didn’t find any. “And your magic tells you things?” Arthur asked, lips twitching. “No, I mean, I get a weird feeling,” Merlin replied. “Oh, so that’s where you ‘weird feelings’ come from.” Merlin nodded dumbly. They were silent for a few seconds. Arthur soon relaxed, only to start fidgeting. His fingers were digging into his palms and picking under his nails. “Arthur?” Arthur didn’t look up right away. When he did, his gaze wasn’t on Merlin’s eyes, but lower. Merlin didn’t speak or move. Arthur’s gaze flickered to his eyes, staring with intent this time. “ Merlin .” Merlin hated (loved) the way he said his name. His voice was low and husky, and it did things to Merlin. Things he was desperately trying to avoid. Arthur leaned forward, hands reaching out to Merlin. Merlin almost, almost surged forward. Arthur reached out to Merlin’s face, his hand resting on his jaw. Merlin carefully grabbed his wrist, lowering it down. Merlin looked down at his hand, which was encircling Arthur’s wrist. “A-Arthur,” Merlin hated the way his voice cracked. He didn’t want to appear uncertain. He was sure this was for the best. “We can’t,” Merlin felt his chest constrict at that, trying to stop his eyes from watering. “What?” Arthur’s voice was pitched high, his tone outraged. Merlin let go of Arthur’s wrist, turning Arthur’s palm up. He traced the lines of Arthur’s palm, desperately trying to not look at Arthur. “Merlin, what are you saying?” “I’m saying we can’t do this,” If Merlin had to choose between living through a serket sting and this conversation, he’d still pick having this conversation because a sting of a serket hurt like hell. But it was a close one. Very close. Having this particular conversation made it hard to breathe and made his heartache very much. “Why? We were fine this afternoon, right? Did someone say anything? Or did I do something wrong” Arthur turned his hand over, grasping Merlin’s in an almost painful grip. Merlin hated how Arthur sounded. He still couldn’t bring himself to look up. “No, it’s none of that,” God, Merlin couldn’t do this. “Then what?” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry . “Destiny,” Shit, Merlin was about to cry. “You’re the King,” Merlin didn’t want to keep talking. “G-Gwen,” he choked out. “Would you like me to keep going?” “What destiny? And Gwen, I’ll talk to her. We haven’t been the same for a long time,” Lies. Merlin knew they were lies. “We share a destiny. You’re meant to be the greatest King of Albion, The Once and Future King, the one who unites everyone and leads us into a Golden Age of peace and prosperity,” despite the situation, Merlin couldn’t help but sound star-struck. “I’m meant to be protecting you, making sure that you’re kept alive to achieve that,” normally, Merlin would have spoken these words with pride, but couldn’t help but feel like it was a curse. “Doesn’t mean that we can’t fall in love,” Arthur whispered, and Merlin had to look up. He didn’t like what he found. He’s rarely seen Arthur cry, once when Uther died and when Morgana betrayed them. It’s funny to think that Merlin was the cause of them both. He wasn’t ugly crying. He wasn’t technically crying. But there were tears in his eyes, and Merlin could tell that he was also trying hard not to cry. And that made Merlin cry. “You don’t get it,” Merlin sniffed. “It doesn’t just end there. You’ll need an heir too. And Gwen is supposed to be your Queen.” “It doesn’t matter. Why should we let it matter?” “You can’t change what’s set, Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice bitter. “There was this time I wished to leave,” Merlin didn’t want to tell Arthur all of this. Arthur looked shocked, and Merlin hated that. “With a girl who I loved. We didn’t make it out of Camelot before she was killed.” “Oh.” “I can’t leave you, ever,” Merlin said. “I won’t leave you anyways, not now. That was a long time ago when I didn’t know that I-” “Didn’t know that you what, Merlin?” Arthur stared at Merlin, and Merlin tried hard not to squirm under it. “Didn’t know that I love you,” Merlin whispered. “See? We can make it work!” Arthur was determined now, and Merlin wanted to slap some sense into him. “That’s not the point I’m trying to make!” Merlin nearly yelled. “I’m trying to tell you that you can’t escape destiny. Some things just aren’t meant to be!” “Then what am I supposed to do? Just accept it and move on like it never happened?” Arthur too was yelling now. “Yes!” Merlin loses his grip on Arthur’s hand, but Arthur wouldn’t let go. “I can’t! I bloody well love-” “Don’t.” Merlin cut in. He wouldn’t hear it. “Don’t,” he repeated, softer this time. “Why not? Why won’t you let me say it?” This felt familiar. “Because it’s all talk. And that’s all it can ever be. And this time, it’s for certain,” Merlin repeated. Ah, that’s where. All of this awfully felt like the time Merlin heard Arthur confess his love for Gwen. Arthur didn’t seem to recognize any of it. But Merlin remembered because it hurt to listen. Listen and encourage Arthur to go after her, his love. But he’s never shown it. “You,” Arthur gritted out. “Don’t know anything. How much it hurt to see you on that table, or, or when you collapsed. Or when I couldn’t find a heartbeat.” “You think I don’t know what it feels like? When you’d charge without thinking and injure yourself? Or when you're practically dead after all those assassination attempts?” Merlin wanted to yell some more, but he didn’t want to relive those things either. He wanted so badly to curl up in Arthur’s arms and maybe fall asleep and forget everything that holds them back. “It isn’t only that! You act like everything’s fine after being abducted, attacked, almost sacrificed, and dying and act like it was nothing!” Arthur’s grip on Merlin’s hand was almost painful now, but Merlin won’t pull away. It was better than holding nothing. “It makes me worry how many times you’ve been through all this, how many times you’ve almost died, and I did nothing.” Arthur was crying now, and Merlin’s heart clenched at the sight. It was probably against Merlin’s better judgment when he did this, but he couldn’t keep looking at Arthur anymore. And so he once again pulled him into a hug, holding on tight. Merlin couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears that slipped on Arthur’s shoulders and judging by the tight grip and the wetness on his shoulder, Arthur couldn’t either. For a long time, all that filled the room were the sounds of their sobs. Merlin loosened his grip on Arthur’s shoulders, pulling away. But Arthur didn’t let go. “We’ll figure it out Merlin, we’ll figure it out,” Arthur whispered against his shoulder. “You’re too precious to let go.” Merlin didn’t answer, only let himself relax slightly in Arthur’s arms. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from all that yelling and crying, or it was the feeling of safety Arthur’s arms provided, but Merlin allowed himself to shift their bodies into the narrow bed. As he lay cuddled up against Arthur, feeling safer than ever, he knew things were far from alright. He knew they had to face the Kingdom, their friends, the Knights, and Gwen the next day. He knew things might never work out. Destiny was a stubborn thing, but he didn’t want to pass up this opportunity. So for now, as he felt Arthur’s heartbeat slow down under his hand, he told himself that he was willing to make the effort. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin loses his magic. Enter Emrys. Notes This is a repost of the fic written for ella_bane in December of last year. Title: Touched by Magic (1/1) Author: dk323 Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 4,831 Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Lancelot (implied) Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. Summary: Merlin loses his magic. Enter Emrys. Beta: a8c_sock (Thank you!)

Arthur scrambled back in surprise as a figure sat up, shaking broken moss and bark out of its hair and sputtering nonsense. It was a human. Or Arthur thought it was a human. It had black hair, pale skin, and big ears. His eyes opened. They were made of a brilliant gold that looked as though it had survived a hundred centuries and could survive thousands more. Wisdom, unspeakable. Power, unbreakable. He was fae. “Why are you dollopheads all staring at me? Is there something wrong with my ears?” OR Merlin claims they've met before, but Arthur doesn't remember the pesky fae at all. He also can't figure out why he isn't dead yet or how to get the idiot to quit following him around. Notes Also on ff.net. Hoping to get all of this up soon! Is There Something Wrong With My Ears? As Merlin coughed and sputtered, powder puffed out of his nostrils in an annoying dust cloud that did not aid his fit. “Blast it!” With a hand, he waved at the dust cloud. It hardened into pebbles and dropped to the ground, pelting at his boots. The dust in his nose, however, was still making his eyes water, so he pulled a hanky out of his pocket and blew into it loudly. He glared down at the offending mushroom that poked out between the roots of an aged and withering oak tree. Although it might have looked innocent, he knew what it was: a magical pest that was slowly draining the life of the trees in the forest. With the heel of his boot, he kicked the top, but all the action served to do was kick more of the dust into the air as the mushroom rebounded back and forth again. Gagging, Merlin used his neckerchief to cover his nose. “Blast it!” he choked out again before muttering several curse words under his tongue in the fae language. The mushrooms exploded into the greatest cloud of them all. Sometimes, Merlin had so much power he forgot he could use it until it was too late. Hacking his lungs out, Merlin stumbled forward. If he could find the creek, he could rinse some of the powder of his eyes and be able to see and breathe the tiniest bit better. Since he was holding the neckerchief over his nose and rubbing his powder-crusted eyes with his fist, Merlin failed to notice the tree root sticking out of the ground, and down he went. For being the most powerful fae of them all, Merlin bemoaned to himself as he picked himself off the ground and tramped in a beeline towards the stream, he sure looked like an idiot at the moment. As if they could sense his vexation with the fungus, the trees moved their branches out of the way, bowing slightly as he walked past. “I’ve told you,” he muttered as he worked at the knot securing his neckerchief to his neck. “You don't have to do that.” The trees ignored him. They always did whenever he tried to talk reason to him. Even though he was fae and his deepest desires came true with a gold wisp of magic, they refused to bend on that one point. Which made Merlin wonder how he could be the most powerful fae to walk the earth and still not be able to convince a few hundred (or thousand) trees to call him by his first name instead of their dratted nickname for him. Emrys. “Oh, don’t start that again,” he said crossly as he knelt by the stream. “Next thing, you’ll have the juniper bushes doing it, too.” “ Help, somebody help!” At the call, Merlin’s ears perked, and his magic prickled as something unknown flared up. It wasn’t often that a human being came that deep into the woods. Merlin didn’t like strangers. They trampled on his plants, but most of the time, he ignored them. They were obnoxiously loud, scaring all of the animals half to death when they weren’t killing them or otherwise maiming them. They didn’t usually call for him because they usually tried to kill him first. “Help, I’m begging you!” Merlin sighed and dipped his neckerchief into the stream. He supposed the quickest way to get the humans out of his woods was to get rid of their reason for coming there in the first place. If his senses were anything to go by, the human and the smaller one would come crashing into the small clearing about the stream in approximately a minute. He supposed it could be a trap, but his magic told him that it was not. Something about the young one. Straightening up, he wrang out the piece of fabric. “Help!” And there. A flash of silver, red, and gold. It was a knight. Merlin’s lip curled in disgust. He did not like knights. Ever since that Uther fellow became king of Camelot, they did nothing but trouble for the forest. Each week, Merlin healed about a dozen trees because of the escapades of his men or his subjects. It was an older man, clad in chainmail. No horse. A sword at his waist. But carried in his arms was a young boy, wearing a smaller version of the same armor. Blonde hair. Merlin knew who he was instantly even without being introduced or seeing his likeness before. Prince Arthur. The Once and Future King, but a mere boy. To see the damage, Merlin extended his senses. A massive stab wound. In surprise, Merlin recoiled until the water of the stream lapped at the sole of his boots. “Please, you have to help me!” the knight begged, kneeling in front of Merlin and laying Prince Arthur on the grass. “I know you’re one of them. You can do it.” Now that Arthur was lying right in front of him, Merlin could see the malady with his own eyes. Blood was dripping from a wound in his shoulder, close to his neck, and Merlin guessed that he’d been stabbed. He could smell it, and his stomach rolled at the nauseating stench. The child had approximately one minute left to live, he estimated by the way he was losing blood and the life force was slowly draining out of him. “Please, do something! I’ll give you anything! I’ll pay any price,” the knight begged Merlin again, desperation clawing its way through his voice. He lowered his eyes to the ground in front of him. He must have assumed Merlin’s hesitation was due to a hatred for the human race. For a moment, Merlin studied his face. It was wrinkled like shriveled up moss and tanned. Interesting. Merlin did not have the privilege of seeing age up close. Emrys, the trees reminded him. You must save him. He is part of your destiny. “I know.” Merlin didn’t care if the knight thought Merlin was speaking to him or not. Carefully, he placed his neckerchief on a rock. “Please step back.” After a brief hesitation, the knight obeyed Merlin. Merlin replaced him at Prince Arthur’s side. Whenever he placed his hands on the young boy's chest, a shock flared through his fingers. Yes, there was something peculiar...something. Yes, there was no doubt about it. This was the Once and Future King. His magic was never wrong. Merlin began to chant a few words in the language of magic, and underneath him, his fingertips warmed. It is all right, the trees around the tiny clearing told him. You will wake. Humming under his breath as he let the words die out, Merlin did not respond. Power was draining out of him into Arthur, and the air was swirling with gold, the same shade of his eyes. Arthur’s body ached underneath his fingertips. Above the thrumming of magic buzzing in his (rather large) ears, Merlin heard the older knight shouting, so he briefly threw up a shield to keep the man from interfering when he was almost done. Just a little bit more. As the spell completed, Merlin shoved himself away from Arthur, whose body slammed into the ground, and the boy gasped, his eyes flying open. “Prince Arthur!” As the shield dropped and the knight ran forward, Merlin rolled to the side and shakily stood to his feet, swaying. “Thank you! I know King Uther persecutes-” “Sir Frederick?” Arthur asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion. “What happened?” Sir Frederick devoted his attention to the prince. “Bandits, Your Majesty.” “Please go,” Merlin requested in a thin voice. The world was spinning. Light was fading from the sky. “Please leave my forest.” “Thank you,” Sir Frederick repeated again, dipping his head before scooping Prince Arthur into his arms. “I don’t know how I can repay you.” Merlin watched them go before stumbling into the trees. You will wake again. At the base of one of his favorite elms, Merlin sat. To him, it appeared to be twilight even though it was high noon. But it was all right. He knew that any normal fae would die from doing what he had just done. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. But he was Emrys, immortal, magic in fae kind. And when he knew the prophecies of the Once and Future King, eternal sleep was much better than eternal death. The trees were right. He would wake one day. Sleep overcame him. … Arthur enjoyed hunting. There was something about the nearby forest that seemed to call him, whether it be the green atmosphere that was a welcome change from the drab walls of the castle to the thrill of the chase. But it was never satisfying. No matter how good the hunt or sunny the day, Arthur always felt like he was missing something. “And then,” Gwaine said from behind him as their horses plodded along, “she slapped me on the cheek. I had a ruddy handprint on my cheek for three days!” As he listened to the story, the corner of Arthur’s mouth twitched. “I’m sure you deserved it,” Percival told him. Absentmindedly, Arthur scratched at an itch at the back of his skull with the hand that wasn’t holding onto the reins. The itch did not go away. Instead, a low buzzing in the back of his mind joined it like a bee. He frowned. Gwaine broke off his story. “Oy, what’s got your knickers in a twist, princess?” “Nothing.” He shook his head. “Let’s give the horses some water.” Even though they were at least one hundred feet from the stream, he dismounted from his horse, and his knights copied him. With each step he took, the aggravating sensation in the back of his head grew. It was almost as though the trees were trying to tell him something. But that was impossible. As he crossed the base of a particularly elegant and old elm, the buzzing amplified until it was almost unbearable. “Are you all right, sire?” Percival asked him as he clutched his head, the other knights echoing the same concern. Arthur stared at the tree’s roots. Along with the moss and vines, they took on a web shape as though they were almost hiding something. It was unnatural, almost as though the arrangement had been formed by magic. Arthur had been brought up to fear magic. It was dangerous for him to explore whatever this disturbance was. “Hand me a knife.” After he felt the hilt pressed into his hand, he approached the roots. Something told him something was hiding under them. With all of his muscle, he drove the knife into the bark and began to gradually strip away layers that had built up over the years. It took a bit of muscle, but Arthur had a bit of muscle. Behind him, his knights muttered among themselves, and Gwaine asked him if he had a fever, but Arthur ignored them. With one hefty hack of the knife, a substantial section of the latticework caved in. “What in the name of-” Sir Leon started behind him. Arthur scrambled back in surprise as a figure sat up, shaking broken moss and bark out of its hair and sputtering nonsense. It was a human. Or Arthur thought it was a human. It had black hair, pale skin, and big ears. His eyes opened. They were made of a brilliant gold that looked as though it had survived a hundred centuries and could survive thousands more. Wisdom, unspeakable. Power, unbreakable. He was fae. “Why are you dollopheads all staring at me? Is there something wrong with my ears?” It's the ears, isn't it?

Merlin suddenly falls ill. Arthur takes this as his final opportunity to convey his feelings while taking care of his manservant. Notes English is not my native language, please feel free to comment on my grammar and use of English. It would help me a lot. See the end of the work for more notes Merlin had been feeling off the whole morning. His magic was a little hard to control, scratch that, a little hard to use. He was starting to get worried. Arthur was training with the knights, so Merlin had to accompany him. He couldn’t get to Gaius until after they had lunch… Magic wasn’t something that just went off, there might have been dark magic involved. The sun wasn’t helping his case, sweating like a pig even though it was a chilly day. He disregarded it. That wasn’t important. “Are you okay?” Gwaine asked him when they had a break. “Totally! Why wouldn’t I be?” he tried to look at Gwaine directly in the eyes but he batted his eyelashes too much. “Merlin you always manage to sound suspicious, but I’ll take your word” They finished up and Arthur yelled to Merlin “get my things and let’s go”. As always Merlin did what Arthur wanted him to do, protesting under his breath. Everyone left to their chores and duties. The day was going by as any other. Leon and Arthur had to talk with an informant about a possible invasion in the north of Camelot, however it wasn’t nothing beyond ordinary. Arthur only sensed something was wrong when Merlin took longer than usual. There were no sarcastic comments being whispered behind him, about him or to him by that lazy servant of his, it felt strange. “Go ahead” he told Leon as he rushed back to the training field. Under the bright sun, Merlin looked as pale as a ghost. He was staggering carrying everything Arthur had taken there, his armor, sword, shield, maze. “Is he staggering because of the weight?” Arthur wondered. He always though Merlin was weaker than him in strength. He fastened his pace. “Should we help the king’s manservant?” whispered one of the passing guards. “He always carries everything at once, don’t sweat it” replied his partner. Arthur concluded that Merlin was indeed physically strong. But something wasn’t right. He was a few steps away from Merlin when he collapsed. He ran to him and started asking for help. “I AM THE KING OF CAMELOT; I NEED GAIUS IN MY CHAMBERS NOW!” he yelled as he piggybacked a burning Merlin. Merlin was grunting and furrowing his eyebrows in pain. His whole body was catching fire. Arthur ran his way into his chambers and kicked the door open. Everyone in the castle, the knights, Morgana, Gwen, even the kitchen staff were worried or feeling strangely uneasy. Arthur grabbed the nearest piece of clean cloth he could find and wiped Merlin’s sweat from his forehead. With the tips of his fingers he moved the locks of hair that were sticking to his pale skin. “Everything will be alright, just… hang in there” Gwen tapped Arthur’s shoulder, tending to switch places so she could take her of Merlin. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, this doesn’t make sense… He was perfectly fine yesterday” he said as he carefully followed each of Gwen’s instructions. Gwen left to bring Gaius faster, because Arthur was starting to lose it. Merlin stopped grunting and breathing heavily and now was silent. “Don’t leave me like this… I haven’t…” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand and squeezed it. His nervous heart crushed like a porcelain plate when the touch was lifeless. “I haven’t told you I love you yet” his voice cracked and tears rolled down his face. But he was the king. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this, he had to maintain composure. “I’m here sire” said Gaius as he walked over to the bed. Arthur was resting his face in Merlin’s hand, once he heard Gaius he stood up and paced around the room. He looked at the floor, then at Merlin, then at Gaius and the floor again, repeating this pattern several times until it drove Gaius mad. “I’ll give you a few drops now sire, to calm your nerves” “Nerves? I’m not suffering of nerves! I’m completely fine! Why don’t you focus on Merlin instead… please” he pressured. “Ah yes, my dear boy is… Well it is hard to tell because he is unconscious but this seems like a severe cold. Although I cannot say for sure…” “You think magic may have caused this? Right in the middle of the discussions for lifting the ban… The sorcerers do THIS?!” he yelled suddenly and Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “Sire please keep your voice down!” alarmed Gaius, “No, I’m not saying it was magic, I’ll do my best but if he doesn’t wake up after two or three days then I don’t think there is much we can do” With all seriousness he explained the medicines he would prepare, Arthur insisted on saying Merlin would recover and that Gaius should hurry to not delay the recovery any more. Although he said that more to convince himself than to reassure Gaius. The king did not leave Merlin’s side. He wiped his sweat, changed Merlin’s clothes every now and then, admiring his body and also lamenting the state he was in. Arthur wasn’t eating either, he was far too worried. Whenever Gaius came to see Merlin the following day to administer the medicines, Arthur would not look. In the hopes that when he turned around, Merlin would smile mischievously at him again and make fun of his ways. It wasn’t the case. The second night, after putting a cloth with water over Merlin’s forehead. Arthur felt the sickness was lifting. Merlin’s face looked more relaxed, and his hand felt warm-ish. He was overjoyed. Merlin, the love of his life, was not dead. “Merlin… can you hear me? Merlin you’re getting better but there isn’t much we can do if you don’t wake up soon, your body can’t go on without food.” His words were rushed because Arthur and Merlin were running against an invisible clock that threatened their lives each second it marked. If Merlin died, Arthur's sould would go with him. “Hn… Wa- Water” managed to mumble Merlin, his eyes weren’t opened and his body looked like it weighted tons, Merlin was only able to lightly squeeze Arthur’s hand. He tried to give it to him cautiously but he was trembling. After a few gulps, Arthur left the jar with water and run to the corridor to yell for someone to bring Gaius. Merlin little by little started waking up. “Agh” “Don’t force it idiot! Stay there until Gaius comes… Uh, more water? I’ll grab you more water” Arthur stumbled and bumped into almost everything in the room. He was worried and felt relieved but most of all nervous. “Were you able to hear what I was saying while you were… well, while you were unconscious?” “Not everything, it was muffled” replied Merlin in a frail voice. “For fuck’s sake you sound terrible, don’t talk. Where’s Gaius?!” A few hours later, Merlin was able to talk and eat normally but his body wasn’t strong enough to get him standing. He talked to Gaius privately about it, the old man went to look in Merlin’s chambers and eventually found herbs tied inside Merlin’s pillow. It had been some kind of nature magic that only thanks to Merlin’s gift his body managed to overcome. Recovery was not going to be as easy as the other times and there was no magic cure for this, at least none Gaius could think of at the moment. He promised Merlin he’d study and that he’d take him to his chambers. When they were getting ready to leave, Merlin was using Gwaine as help to walk, Arthur barged in and demanded Merlin to return to bed. Immediately. “Putting yourself in pain by walking and for what!” “Sire but where would you sleep? You couldn’t possible go to Merlin’s chambers!” “Gaius, it is not your place to worry about my sleeping whereabouts. Now I believe Merlin has to rest. No more trying to get out until you’re fully recovered!” he said looking at Merlin with a distressed face. Not everyone was shocked by this reaction, what they were shocked about later was to discover that Arthur slept by the bedside, having his hair stroked by Merlin until he could catch sleep. Merlin was aware of Arthur’s feelings by know. They were obvious. He barely let other people take care of him and postponed almost everything that needed his presence. For the love of god he was actually thinking of inventing a higher rank of knight so Leon could be able to cover his duties as king until Merlin was good to go. Despite his own feelings, Merlin wished Arthur would wake up one day and fall in love with a princess that would help him with the alliance to shape Albion. His selfishness could not interfere with fate. By the time Merlin’s body could walk by its own, it had been a week. Arthur had horrible stomach aches but from the nervousness of having to confess. Yes, confess. As he helped Merlin put his clothes on despite the “I’m not a child, I can dress myself!” and the “Oh so you’re calling me a child for having you help me when you were fine?” followed by “Don’t forget to add royal, a royal child”. Arthur ruffled Merlin’s hair and threw him his coat. He didn’t want to bare losing Merlin, to make it even worse, before making his feelings known. “I have something to tell you Merlin” “You always do” “Yes, but this time it’s different… and serious” Arthur grabbed a chair for Merlin. “You’re starting to scare me, have you killed anybody? Do we need to dig a hole and keep it hidden?” “Merlin! Of course not!” “Well you are acting weirder than usual, and just so you know, you can fully trust me. I would never gossip your murder around and I'm very good at hiding and digging” Merlin told him, trying to deviate the conversation. His gut was telling him Arthur was trying to confess. “Merlin I’m trying very hard to say I love you here but you keep interrupting me! How do you expect me to confess properly when you can’t keep your mouth shut for two goddamned seconds” Arthur’s eyes widened; he did not intend for that to come out like it did. He immediately looked at Merlin and he could see how his face light up and dropped to a sad smile. “Arthur I…” “Wait, no, let me do it right” His heart was pounding as he cleared his throat to try and wipe that sad smile from Merlin’s face. After seeing his face light up, he was sure Merlin liked him back. Whatever was holding him back… He’ll have to listen first. “Merlin after watching you practically come back to life I decided this couldn’t wait any longer. I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you again and I think it’s time to let you know why… I love you. I’m in love with you Merlin, have been for quite some time to be honest. It’s everything you do, even the smallest things like smile or when you mock other people doing faces to make me laugh… You’re beautiful and I want you by my side forever. I want you as my king. Wait that might sound rushed but at least… Go out with me… Or even less, let me court you.” Merlin’s eyes were sparkling with tears. Feeling feverish after all the words Arthur said. The room had been dipped in pink hues and all Merlin could see was Arthur in front of him, after not leaving his side, after caring for him in a way Merlin doubted he ever would. “Are you sure Arthur… You will be de death of me if you realize you regret asking me that later on, I won’t be able to take it Arthur. You need a princess by your side, even when I love you too… I can’t let you do it… As your soon to be court advisor, I believe this isn’t your best of choices…” Merlin said with a raspy voice, holding back his tears as he watched his love of his life crumble. “You said you loved me too but only to… reject me?” he asked. “Merlin I don’t care, I'm the king, I will make same sex marriage legal everywhere, I will promote love in everyway across every single kingdom if I have to. If going to battle for that is going to make you accept my love then I will do it” “Don’t be stupid” “I’m the one saying that to you! Even sick you’re one big idiot! I LOVE YOU, and you LOVE ME TOO. Accept my feelings and let the people who don’t accept our love D I E.” Merlin chuckled. “Fine I… I accept your feelings.” He said getting up from the chair with certain effort, walking step by step to get closer to Arthur. “Come here you dollophead, the last thing I want is a war, or people dying without reason... don’t go saying that again” "Then don't give me a reason to" Merlin blushed as Arthur embraced him in a hug. Arthur felt Merlin's body too warm, since he had heard Merlin’s raspy voice too, he bride-carried Merlin back to bed. “Stop forcing yourself” he whispered in his ear while he laid Merlin in the bed and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back with Gaius, try to rest” “I will” he responded, and as Arthur opened the door he whispered, "I love you" End Notes Sorry it took so long to post, I broke up with my girlfriend and had exams. I hoped that if you read it until here you liked it. The ending is a bit rushed but my schedule gets busy again tomorrow so I needed to finish tonight. Thanks for the support! Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

listen this is based off a tumblr post where Arthur finds merlin chained up during that serket thing and finds out about merlin's magic. i wrote this a while ago so don't judge if it sucks pls. Notes i posted this on tumblr like forever ago but i kept forgetting to put it on here but nearly six months later i finally did. anyway enjoy. bone apple teeth See the end of the work for more notes “Gaius, have you seen my useless oaf of a manservant?” Arthur’s voice rang through the corridor. “He didn’t come home last night, sire. I thought he was with you,” The old physician responded. The prince exhaled, “Well I need him. Where can I find him?” “Maybe he went collecting herbs. I mentioned I needed some special ones this morning,” Gaius shrugged, “Or maybe he just went for drinks at the tavern.” Arthur decided he needed a break from it all. From his father helplessly lying in bed. From Morgana being a little to eager to rejoin the family. “I’m going to find Merlin,” He declared. So the first thing Arthur did was check the tavern. The only thing he found there were three old drunks asking questions about the whereabouts of the king, which he pointedly ignored. But no Merlin. Arthur proceeded to get his horse and check the area around where Gaius told him the herbs grew. Gaius also asked if Arthur could grab some for him, which Arthur didn’t plan to do. When he found Merlin, he could do it. It was almost the middle of the night, and Arthur was starting to get cold. A little bit worried too, if he was being honest. It wasn’t like Merlin to leave without telling anyone. That’s what he did, Arthur decided, went out for herbs and lost track of time. Yet a small voice in the back of his mind kept on nagging, like a string waiting to be pulled. What if Merlin wasn’t gathering herbs? What if he ran away? What if he was tired of Arthur? What if he didn’t want to be his servant anymore? What if he didn’t want him? Arthur shook his head. No, he decided, that would never happen. At least he hoped it wouldn’t. Even if Merlin did decide to quit, he would tell Arthur, and say goodbye, right? If not to Arthur than at least to Gaius. Arthur cupped his hands together and called out Merlin’s name. He heard a faint rustling noise and drew his his sword as soundlessly as possible. These woods were known for serkets, after all. He quietly slid off his horse and slinked around the grove. Arthur nearly dropped his sword out of sheer suprise. There were almost a dozen serkets scuttling towards a figure laying on the ground in chains. Merlin. Merlin shouted out nonsense that sounded ancient, almost alive. Arthur saw a flicker of gold in Merlin’s closing eyes. Merlin was doing magic. He was apparently good at it too, because the scorpion-like creatures were thrown almost three- no four- meters backwards. Arthur took this chance to run towards his friend. “Arthur,” Merlin whispered, “I’m sorry.” “You have magic,” was all Arthur could say. “I was born with it. I only use it for you, I promise,” Merlin nearly cried. Arthur pulled him close and tried to lift him up without disturbing the wound on his shoulder. “No, Arthur. Please. Please stop,” the sorcerer moaned. Arthur felt his heart break as his friend begged him to stop. He didn’t know why Merlin didn’t want his help. Then it hit him. He was scared of Arthur. It probably didn’t help Arthur kept jostling his shoulder, despite his best efforts not to. Arthur whispered a quick apology and tried to reassure Merlin that he wouldn’t let anything happen to him. “Who did this to you?” Arthur managed, silently vowing to kill whoever responsible. “Morgana,” he whispered. Merlin’s eyelashes started to flutter. His eyes were closed now, and his pulse was getting weaker. “Merlin, just stay awake, just keep your eyes open, Merlin, please. I can’t lose you Merlin, I just can’t.” Arthur sobbed as Merlin’s breathing got slower and his skin paler. He ignored the white-hot anger in his chest and kept trying to lift Merlin on his horse. Morgana. Morgana of all people. It was so obvious, and almost poetic. She comes back and Uther gets sick. Now this. He heard the thing before he saw it. A few thundering swooping sounds and then a heavy thud behind him. Arthur drew his sword and turned around as best he could while still keeping Merlin up on the horse. Nothing could have surprised him more than the sight before him. There it was in all its might and glory, the beast that attacked Camelot a little over a year ago. Arthur had half a mind to run him through with his sword, but before he could even take a step, the dragon laughed. “Young prince,” It grumbled, “Give me the boy.” Arthur put a hand against Merlin protectively and stepped into the defensive stance that had been drilled into him day after day since before he could remember. To his surprise, the dragon laughed again. “Never one to shy away from a fight, are you boy?” It taunted. “This man is under my protection, and as the Prince of Camelot, I order you to leave these lands or face my wrath,” Arthur said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “You would risk your life for a servant, and a magical one at that?” It asked, “Perhaps I underestimated you, young prince. Now hand me the boy. I can help him.” “And why would I trust you?” Arthur sputtered out. “Because he’s dying,” The dragon smiled creepily, knowing that Arthur had no choice. “You won’t be able to get him to that old man in time, and even if you could, I doubt Gaius has the cure for a poison this strong.” Arthur looked at Merlin, then the dragon. The sword in his hand started to shake, so much that he put it down. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll bring him back alive. Or I will kill you and anything you have ever loved.” “I loved Camelot, young prince. What it used to be at least. With Magic and Albion as one, until your mother died and Uther banned sorcery.” The dragon looked wistful, almost sad. Arthur picked up Merlin over his shoulder and set him down gently at the dragon’s claws. “I hope one day you can fulfill your destiny and reunite the two again,” He added, right before he stretched his wings and flew away. “What about my destiny? What about Merlin?” Arthur yelled his questions to the trees until he was out of breath. He realized there was no use, so he hopped up on his horse and rode back to the castle. He stormed into Morgana’s chambers and drew his sword. Her eyes flashed and Arthur was thrown back against the wall before he could blink. She sauntered down the hall with a shallow smile and left Arthur helplessly watching her long purple cloak trail behind her. The next morning, Arthur went to check on Merlin, who was sitting outside reading a small, leather-bound book that looked older than Gaius. “I don’t pay you to sit around, do I, Merlin?” Arthur attempted to joke, coming off dry. Merlin snapped the book shut and said, “Sorry, Sire,” he mumbled, walking away. “Stay,” was all Arthur could manage, “Please. Let’s talk.” Merlin dutifully sat down. “So. What do you want to talk about? The fact that I’m a sorcerer? The fact that Morgana isn’t all she’s cracked up to be?” He raised an eyebrow. “Say it a little louder Merlin, I don’t think they heard you in Camlan,” Arthur scolded. “Oh so now you’re protecting sorcerors? What would the king think?” Merlin smirked. “Why didn’t you tell me, Merlin?” Arthur said, voice barely above a whisper. The sorcerer wouldn’t meet his eye. “I was scared.” “Can you show me a little magic?” he whispered. Despite his father’s reputation, the Prince of Camelot had always wanted to see the good in magic. Merlin smiled and clasped his hands up to his face. He whispered a word and his eyes flashed gold. Merlin opened his hands and smiled as a blue butterfly flew out and landed on Arthur’s hand. He noticed it had specks of gold mixed in with the blue, the exact color of Merlin’s eyes. His favorite color, Arthur decided. It went very nicely with gold, he thought. End Notes please leave kudos/a comment if you enjoyed! it would really make my day Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

He stopped understanding why his heart ached every time he saw a golden head or blue eyes or crooked teeth or something and anything since he managed to somehow find him in everything. He stopped remembering who he was trying so hard not to forget. Arthur. Arthur. Arthur.

Canon divergent from The Nightmare Begins, where Merlin starts giving Morgana magic lessons and Arthur is suspiciously willing to not ask questions about what his servant is up to. Basically a season two fix it story focusing on Merlin and Morgana's friendship. Notes For the prompt: Merlin and company getting into shenanigans, solving magical problems, and kicking butt while having a good time! I want a fun gen piece, though relationships on the side aren't a problem. I'm thirsting for friendship and magical crazy times! Anything that can happen in a light-dappled forest or bright castle. I hope this is what you were looking for! It was a lot of fun to write. The title is loosely inspired by the title of a Psych episode about how small choices could change how things play out. “I don’t believe that any of these people have any idea where Morgana is,” Arthur announces. Merlin half turns around absently picking up laundry and straightening things out, looking at where Arthur’s sitting at his desk. He’s looking over his list of suspected druid sympathizers, or at least seeming to, a half-hearted gesture at following his father’s order to find those who went to ground. “Sire?” Merlin asks. “My father’s tactic doesn’t make any sense, the druids have not way of hearing what’s happened to these people and half of them are only suspected on the most tenuous of bases—” Arthur breaks off with a long sigh, cradling his head in his hands, massaging his temples in slow circles. Merlin’s not sure how he should answer. He fiddles with the hem of one of the shirts he’s holding, waiting. “Merlin,” Arthur says after a long moment, slowly lifting his head from his hands. “Yes, sire?” “Morgana’s a very resilient person.” “Yeah,” Merlin agrees quickly, “more than most people I know. I’m sure she’s fine, you’ll find her soon.” “That’s not what I mean.” Merlin swallows. “What—” “Morgana’s resilient,” Arthur repeats, pushing back his chair and standing up, “and she’s stubborn. If, for whatever reason, she didn’t want to come back to Camelot, she wouldn’t.” Merlin doesn’t say anything. “And,” Arthur continues, levelling his gaze at Merlin, “if my father can’t find Morgana he won’t hesitate to follow through on his threat to execute the prisoners.” “Right, of course.” “So if anyone knows where Morgana is and can make her come back before that’s necessary…” Merlin blanches. “Arthur, I don’t know anything, I swear.” “I don’t think you do Merlin, don’t be ridiculous.” Arthur tosses the words out without any of their usual bite. “But considering what happened in her chambers, I wouldn’t be surprised if Morgana didn’t feel safe in Camelot anymore. What she needs,” Arthur looks Merlin dead in the eye, “is someone who knows what she’s going through. Someone who can make sure she doesn’t feel alone.” Merlin stares at Arthur. “What are you saying, exactly, sire?” “Me?” Arthur frowns, exaggerating the expression as he considers Merlin’s question. “I’m not saying anything, Merlin.” “Right.” Merlin nods slowly. He lifts the laundry in his arms slightly. “I’ll just take these to be washed then, shall I.” Arthur hums in agreement, turning back to the papers on his desk. Merlin watches him for a moment before slowly heading for the door again. “Oh, and Merlin?” Merlin turns around. Arthur glances up from the scroll in his hands. “Why don’t you take the afternoon to… pick herbs for Gaius, or whatever it is you do.” “Sorry?” “You heard me,” Arthur says, moving around his desk to sit back down. “I don’t think I’ll need you for the rest of the afternoon.” When Merlin doesn’t move he looks up from the scroll again. “Go on then, my shirts won’t wash themselves.” Merlin opens his mouth, then closes it again. Arthur just continues studying the papers on his desk. Merlin stares at him for a long moment before slowly turning around and heading for the laundry room. “Arthur knows Morgana has magic.” Gaius looks up sharply from the book he was studying as Merlin bangs through the door into his chambers. “What?” Merlin starts pacing Gaius’ chambers. “And he might know about me, I’m not sure, but he definitely knows about Morgana.” “Don’t be ridiculous Merlin, how could he possibly know?” “The same way I did. He saw the window in Morgana’s room too, he could have put it together.” Gaius moves around to the other side of his work bench. “But you’re a sorcerer, Arthur’s not. You’re just worried about Morgana and that worry’s making you imagine things.” “No.” Merlin shakes his head, still pacing. “No, I’m not imagining this, you weren’t there, you didn’t hear him.” “Why, what did he say?” Merlin stops pacing, looking at Gaius. “He said that Morgana…. probably didn’t feel safe in Camelot? And that she needed someone who would understand her, that this person should go and bring he back before any of the suspects got killed.” “Merlin, look at this logically,” Gaius says, moving towards him. “From his perspective Morgana’s had a terrible fright and then been kidnapped. Of course she wouldn’t feel safe here after they got her back. As for the rest, Arthur’s always been more reluctant to execute innocent people than his father, I hardly think having a conscious should make you suspicious of him.” “Gaius… I’m telling you, he knows something.” Gaius sighs, moving back towards his work bench. “Merlin, if Arthur really knew anything do you think you’d still be here? At most he suspects. All you have to do is keep your head down not act rashly.” “You just said that he doesn’t like killing innocent people.” “Yes, but he’s still Uther’s son and loyal to the laws of Camelot, and for the time those laws say that sorcery is illegal.” Merlin considers this for a beat, then starts for the stairs to his room. “Right. I’ve got to go.” “Where are you off to now?” “I’ve got to find Morgana and bring her back,” Merlin calls from his room, yanking up the floorboard where he keeps the spell book Gaius had given him and pulling it out. “But what if Arthur comes looking for you?” Merlin hurries back down the stairs, sticking the book into the satchel as he does. “He gave me the afternoon off to collect herbs, just tell him I’m doing that.” “Merlin…” “Gaius,” Merlin stops, looking at him, “I can’t let anyone get killed because of this.” Gaius purses his lips together, then sighs, relenting. “Alright.” Gaius turns back to his book. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Merlin walks for hours, wending his way through the forest of Essetir as the sun slowly sinks lower and lower in the sky. He only has the vaguest idea where he's going, hoping in what was probably a bit of wishful thinking that he can trust some kind of instinct to help him find the druid camp. He does his best to rack his brain for some of the hunting nonsense Arthur’s always going on about that could be used to pick up on Morgana’s trail, but all Merlin comes up with is a vague recollection of how to use fewmets, which somehow don’t actually seem that useful in this particular case. Dusk falls, and the woods around him are cast in shadows. Sighing, Merlin sits down by a small copse for a break. He’s fumbling in his bag for the water skin he’d packed when a sharp shriek cuts through the air. Merlin jumps to his feet, hurriedly shoving everything back into his bag and taking off in the direction of the sound. He sprints through the trees, jumping over logs and dodging branches before skidding to a halt in a clearing. Morgana is splayed on the ground, a man in a dark cloak kneeling over her. He starts to raise his head and, on instinct, Merlin flings out his hand in front of him. “ Oferswing !” The man raises his arm to deflect the spell, but still stumbles backwards. Merlin is hurrying towards Morgana when a second, smaller figure emerges from the shadows behind where the man had fallen. Hello, Emrys. Merlin freezes. The small figure pushes back its hood, revealing a pale face and dark hair. “Mordred.” Merlin swallows. “What are you doing here?” I heard Morgana call out, just like you. Mordred looks down at Morgana. Merlin follows his gaze and for the first time notices a dark stain spreading through the skirt of her dress. She’s hurt. We can help her. “I’ve got to get her back to Camelot.” “She’ll be safer with us.” Merlin swivels his head away from Mordred. The man, a druid Merlin now realizes, is slowly pushing himself to his feet. “The boy’s right, we can heal her, but we should take her back to our camp.” Merlin stands up, shaking his head. “I can’t let you do that. The king thinks she’s been kidnapped, if you take her to your camp you’ll all be in danger.” “She’s been stung by a serket, if you want to see her live until morning you’ll let her come with us.” “You’re not listening to me, if the king finds her with you, you’ll all be killed! I can take her to the court physician—” We’re losing time. Merlin looks between Mordred and the man, pursing his lips. Mordred’s bright eyes are boring into him. Merlin sighs. “Fine. But as soon as she’s cured, we need to get back to Camelot.” The man smiles. “Excellent. My name is Aglain. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emrys.” Merlin spends most of the night pacing, enough to make a noticeable track in the ground in front of the tent-like structure where they put Morgana. The camp’s healers swept Morgana off as soon as they’d arrived, and insisted that Merlin not disturb her, so all he could do was wait. Eventually a druid came out and told him that they’d finished dressing her wound and that she needed her rest. Merlin had shuffled along behind as they carried her to another, smaller tent and taken up pacing as he waited for Morgana to wake up. Emrys. Merlin looks up sharply, stopping in his tracks. Mordred was standing by a tree, looking at him. “What?” Merlin asks tersely. We should go in. “I’m not allowed, they said she needs her rest.” Merlin slowly starts moving again, looking at his boots. She’s woken up. Morgana is sitting up in bed talking to Aglain. Both of them looked over as Merlin gently pushes aside the cloth hanging that covers the entrance to enter. “Merlin!” Morgana pushes herself up a little straighter. “What are you doing—” She breaks off as she noticed Mordred behind him and her eyes go wide. “It’s you.” Hello Morgana. Morgana looks sharply to Aglain. “Did you hear that?” She looks back to Mordred. “How did you do that?” “We don't always need words to speak to one another,” Aglain says. Mordred crosses to the bed, smiling. Out loud, he says, “Now I can take care of you like you did me.” Aglain watches Mordred for a moment then turns to Merlin, still standing just inside the entrance. “You see? Your friend could be much happier here than she is under Uther’s thumb.” “Right, assuming his men don’t kill you all first.” Morgana looks up at him. “Merlin? What are you talking about? What’s happened?” “The King thinks you've been kidnapped.” Merlin takes a few steps into the tent, “We’ve got to go back to Camelot, he won't stop until you're found.” “We can move our camp,” Aglain says. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before. We are well accustomed to dealing with Uther’s raids.” “You’re the one who said I should seek out the druids,” Morgana tells Merlin. “Now you’re asking me to tun back before I’ve even gotten any answers.” “What answers do you seek?” Aglain asks, leaning forward. “Why I can see the future in my dreams,” Morgana tells him, looking down at her hands. “Why I'm able to start fires with my mind.” Aglain looks at her sympathetically. “People who are able to do this are few and far between. You have a gift.” Morgana looks up at him, her eyes wide. “Is it magic?” “Of a kind, yes.” Morgana doesn’t look surprised. She takes in the information and nods, almost imperceptibly. Mordred is still standing next to her bed and he reaches out to take her hand, squeezing it softly. Aglain continues, “But it will be many years before you’re able to understand it fully, let alone use it. I understand your friend’s concern, and I agree that we should be quick to act to avoid the coming raid, but I think you should consider staying with us. We have many teachers, and in time you could learn much from us.” Morgana’s eyes are still open wide, but they’re glistening now and there’s a soft eagerness to her voice. “Really?” Aglain nods solemnly. “I assure you Lady Morgana, this isn't something to be afraid of. I know what Uther’s views are, but he is mistaken. Magic isn't a dark art that must be shrouded in secrecy. It can be a force for good.” “Morgana, you can’t,” Merlin takes a step forward. “I’m really sorry, I am,” he tells Aglain, “I agree with what you’re saying, but, Morgana— you have to got to come back." “Are you listening to yourself, Merlin?” Morgana looks at him, frowning. “They understand me here, I don’t have to feel alone.” “And what about the people in Camelot? The suspected magic users, people who opposed the purge. Uther’s arrested dozens of them, Morgana. He’s ordered his men to look for more, he’ll execute them all if you’re not found.” “If I return, the same fate awaits me.” “Uther doesn't need to know about this. I won't tell a soul.” “Merlin, you don’t understand what you’re asking. If I go back now…” “You’ll live in constant fear,” Merlin finishes for her. “You’ll have to hide a part of yourself that you didn’t ask for, that you know can be helpful and good and do so many amazing things, but that people will only see as harmful. I know—” Merlin takes a deep breath. “I know you think I don’t understand, but I do. Really.” Morgana looks up at him, a slight frown formed between her eyebrows as her gaze searches his face. “Do you…” Merlin nods silently. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “You’re Uther’s ward." “That doesn’t mean I share his paranoia! I have magic myself, do you really think I would turn you in.” “I couldn’t be sure! You just found out about it, for all I knew you’d think your nightmares were a curse to be lifted, instead of a gift you could learn to control.” Hurt flares up in Morgana’s eyes. “Do you really think so little of me?” “I’m just a servant, Morgana. Who cares if a servant gets executed.” Morgana pulls herself up so she was sitting as straight at she could. “I would never let that happen.” “Right,” Merlin says, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you’d let dozens of people in Camelot get killed because you want to stay here? You can’t have one rule for your friends and another rule for the common people, that makes you just the same as Uther!” Morgana’s hands tighten on the blankets and her jaw clenches. Merlin forces himself to hold her gaze, keenly aware of Aglain and Mordred still in the tent, watching the two of them closely. Swallowing some of his bitterness, Merlin adds more gently, “Please, Morgana. Prove you’re not as self-serving as he is. Come back to Camelot.” Morgana hesitates. Her gaze flits to where Aglain is sitting and then to Mordred. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen, Merlin,” she says at last, her voice small. Mordred climbs up onto the bed and she puts an arm around him, her hand lightly stoking his shoulder. “Every night— Every time I close my eyes to sleep—” Morgana’s voice breaks and she brings her free hand up to wipe her eyes. “You’re right,” Merlin answers. His shoulders collapse a little and he takes a small step towards her. “I have no idea what that’s like. But—” his gaze shoots over to Aglain and he takes a deep breath. “I can still help. Maybe not with your dreams, but with the rest of it. Look.” He sticks his hand into his bag and pulls out the book he brought with him. “Here,” he holds it out to her, “take a look.” Cautiously, Morgana leans forward and takes it from him. Merlin watches her slowly turn through the pages. “Merlin, this is….” “I know.” Merlin bites his lip, hoping dearly that this will work. “And there’s more, things I taught myself, spells not in the book. I could show you.” Morgana tears her eyes away from the book, her gaze falling on Merlin instead. “Really?” Aglain looks between the two of them. He sighs in resignation. “If you do decide to leave you are more than welcome to return. We can tell you how to find us” “See?” Merlin says, tilting his head towards Aglain. “You’re not giving up their help, not forever. And in the meantime I can show you anything you want, but please, Morgana.” He swallows. “We’re running out of time, we’ve got to go back to Camelot. Please .” It’s nearly midday when Arthur and his knights find them in the forest. Merlin and Morgana had been moving slowly, Morgana leaning on Merlin’s shoulder as she limped along beside him. As soon as he catches sight of them through the thinning trees, Arthur dismounts and hurries towards them. “Morgana, are you alright? What happened?” “I’m fine, Arthur, really,” she says with a tight smile. “Nothing a visit to Gaius won’t fix.” Arthur’s expression is still worried, and he turns around, calling out over his shoulder, “A horse for the Lady Morgana.” Turning back to her, he asks, “Can you ride?” Morgana nods. “Yes, thank you.” A knight comes forward, leading a horse. He helps Morgana up and leads the horse back towards the group. Arthur hangs back, giving Merlin a terse nod. “Good job, Merlin.” “Was that a compliment?” Arthur shrugs. “Well even you’ve got to get it right sometimes. Now come on.” He claps Merlin on the the shoulder and starts back towards the group of knights. “You can tell me the details on the way.” “It seems that we were mistaken.” Arthur is standing before Uther, his arms folded over his chest. Morgana was rushed to Gaius as soon as they’d gotten back, who’d told her in no uncertain terms that she was to stay in bed and rest up. Arthur had been called to the throne room, and Merlin had followed, watching from the side as Arthur explains to Uther the story that Merlin and Morgana had come up with. “The druids had nothing to do with Morgana’s disappearance,” Arthur continues. “It was two brigands hoping to hold her for ransom. When all three of them were attacked last night, the kidnappers fled and left Morgana behind. If it weren’t for Merlin here, then I don’t know if we would have found her in time.” “Well,” Uther says, leaning back in his throne, “I must thank you, Merlin. You have proven yourself to be a trustworthy and loyal servant of the realm.” Merlin nods awkwardly. Uther smiles at him in that unnerving way that always feels just a little too fake for Merlin’s liking. Returning his attention to Arthur, he asks, “And what became of the kidnappers?” “Morgana didn’t see their faces, but I’ve told the patrols to be on alert.” Merlin studies Arthur. He hasn’t seen him speak with any of the guards, or the knights in charge of patrols, and Merlin and Morgana were deliberately vague on anything about the fictitious bandits themselves when giving Arthur their hastily-constructed story of the past day’s events. Uther sighs. “Hm. Let’s hope they turn something up, but in the meantime we should probably post extra guards outside of Morgana’s chambers.” “Respectfully, I’m not sure that would be the best for Morgana’s well-being.” Uther raises one eyebrow at Arthur. “She’s been through a lot. I don’t think that adding more guards will make her feel more secure as much as they’re just add to any lingering anxiety. I’m sure that adding more patrols in the courtyard and in the main hallways that lead to her room would be more than sufficient.” Uther considers this, running his thumb slowly back and forth along the side of his fist. “You may have a point. Very well.” He nods. “Add those patrols, and keep me updated on any developments in the search for the kidnappers.” “Of course.” Arthur turns to leave the hall. “Oh… And leave the people we’ve arrested in the dungeons for another day,” Uther adds as an afterthought. “We need to make it clear that there are still consequences to sympathizing with the druids.” Arthur pauses for a moment before nodding and pushing through the door. Merlin has to hurry to catch up with him. “Arthur, you can’t leave those people in prison, the druids had nothing to do with it, and even if they did, those people don’t deserved to punished just because you think —” “Merlin.” Arthur spins around, stopping Merlin in his tracks. “Don’t you think you should go check on Morgana?” “What? Have you heard anything I’m saying?” Arthur sighs. “What I’ve heard, Merlin, is a lot of nonsense. And you’re lucky that I don’t pay attention to your nonsense as as rule, otherwise I might have to put you in the stocks for something that could be easily misconstrued as insubordination and going against the king.” Arthur gives him a pointed look. “Now. I’ve got to go down to the dungeons and tell the guards there that they won’t be needed tonight. Why don’t you check on Morgana and find me when you’re done, hmm?” He turns to walk down the hallway again. Merlin stays where he is, his eyes narrowing. “I know what you’re doing,” he calls out after Arthur. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Merlin,” Arthur calls back. “You’re imagining things.” Morgana is eager to start learning magic as quickly as possible, even though she’s still stuck in bed recovering. Merlin insists that they wait, if for no other reason than because he can’t very well spend hours in her chambers without arousing some suspicion. Morgana agrees, reluctantly, on the condition that Merlin lend her the book Gaius had given him. He does, though he doesn’t see how much use she’ll get out of it with Gwen hovering around her chambers all day. Finally, after a week, Gaius clears Morgana, announcing that the wound is fully healed and that, aside from a scar, there should be no lasting harm. That evening, Morgana meets Merlin in an unoccupied gust chamber after dinner, and they start in earnest. Merlin doesn’t know that he’s much of a teacher. He’d found out most of what he knows through trial and error on his own, and while Morgana has a quick ear for spells and an eagerness to learn, drawing on her magic doesn’t come as immediately to her as it always has to Merlin. He tries to explain how to do a particular spell, and finds himself at a loss for words, unable to articulate how he called up the power to cast it any more than he could have explained how he learned how to breathe. Morgana’s tenacious, though, and with each meeting she’s more determined than the one before. After a few weeks she’s managed to lift quills and bits of parchment a few inches into the air and hold them there, and started to make progress on moving them about at will, so Merlin decides to move them on to conjuring. “I just don’t see why this is so hard!” Morgana says, flinging her hands into the air. They’re working in Gaius’s chambers, Gaius himself having made a trip to one of the outlying villages to deal with an outbreak of a minor illness there. Morgana runs one hand through here hair, pushing it back from her face, and leans in closer to inspect the book before her. “I’ve done this completely without meaning to, I should be more than capable of summoning fire when I actually want it.” Merlin clicks his tongue sympathetically. “Sometimes it’s not that simple. Here,” he reaches out and takes the book, shutting it and setting it aside. “Hold out your hand.” Morgana rolls her eyes, but obeys without protest. “Don’t force it, don’t try to think about what you want to happen or calling on you magic, just… think about what fire feels like. The warmth of the flames, how its light looks—” “The smell of the pyres?” Morgana’s tone is dark. Her words hang between them for a long moment before Merlin slowly lowers his outstretched hand. “Are you still having nightmares?” he asks, one finger tracing the grain of Gaius’s workbench. Morgana shrugs. “They’re not— You know.” She shakes her hair back and sat up a little straighter. “They’re not seer dreams, I’ve had mercifully few of those lately. But…” She hesitates. “That doesn’t make them any less frightening?” Merlin supplies. “Hardly.” “Have…” Merlin starts, cautiously a glancing up at Morgana, still running his finger along the smooth wood. “Have you thought about taking Gaius’ sleeping draughts again?” Morgana shakes her head. “ No . It stops the normal nightmares but that only means I have more seer dreams. These are bad but at least I can tell myself they won’t happen with some degree of confidence.” “Are you sure? He could try a new recipe, maybe, or—” “No.” Morgana holds up a hand, stopping him. “Thank you, Merlin, but please… just let it alone, alright?” Merlin nods, and Morgana gives him a faltering smile, her gaze falling to the workbench a second later. Merlin watches her for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Then he claps his hands together, inhaling sharply. “Alright,” he says, leaning forward with a smile and planting his hands on the table. “Why don’t we try something different.” Morgana is a lot better at conjuring butterflies— Merlin’s interested to see that when she finally manages to produce one it comes out green instead of blue like his— and over the next few sessions she’s able to move onto flowers and even a snail. Merlin doesn’t try to bring up the matter of fire again, but he finds himself lying awake more than once wondering how many burnings Morgana has seen. He’s helping Gwen to fold sheets one afternoon when he thinks to bring the topic up. “So… Ah, you’ve known Morgana a long time?” Gwen looks up from the pillowcase she’s shaking out. “Ever since she came to Camelot. Why?” Merlin shrugs. “You know…” He pulls a sheet out of the basket and struggles to fold it by himself before Gwen comes forward to take one end from him. “I was just thinking.” “About what?” Gwen shakes the sheet briskly and holds the corners out at arms length. Merlin steps forward, lining up her corners with his and taking them from her. “I just supposed,” Merlin says, choosing his words carefully as he and Gwen fold the sheet the other way, “that— well, growing up in Cenred’s kingdom I heard a bit about Uther’s perspective on sorcery, but I didn’t know the full extent of it until I came here. I was just wondering, I guess, how that was for Morgana? Growing up with Gorlois, I mean, then coming to Camelot as a child.” Merlin steps forward again to take the corners of the sheet from Gwen, avoiding her gaze. As he folds it the last few times by himself, he cautiously looks up at her. She’s standing with her hands on he hips, lips pursed, considering Merlin with a look that seems curious, but not suspicious. Merlin drops his gaze again and busies himself with rearranging the stacks of folded laundry. At last Gwen sighs and looks away, plucking a pillowcase from the basket. “I don’t know,” she says, starting to fold it. “She didn’t talk to me much when she first came to Camelot. I wasn’t her maid for the first year she was here, I’d just build the fire in her room sometimes— or I’d take Elyan to watch the training and she’d be there. I do know that she asked Uther if she could have a different room, though. After the first execution she saw.” “And he didn’t let her?” Gwen shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened. I’m not even sure Morgana would have told him why she wanted a different room.” Gwen sets aside the pillowcase and picks up another. “By the time I became her serving-maid she usually would just close the window and not watch.” Gwen grimaces. “But you can usually smell it in her chamber,” she adds, “if they’re burned.” Merlin’s silent as this information sinks in. He picks at the corner of a folded sheet in the pile with his thumbnail, trying not to think of his first day in Camelot. Or Will’s body on his funeral pyre. “Why do you want to know about this, anyway?” Gwen asks him. Merlin shrugs. “Like I said, just curious I guess.” He bends down to scoop up the folded laundry and drops it into the empty basket. “I should probably get this put away.” “Merlin…” “Oh, and could you tell Morgana that I’m going to get herbs tonight? Gaius is making her a new healing draught.” “Of course. But Merlin—” “Sorry,” Merlin interrupts. “I’ve got to get this taken care of in time to get Arthur out of his armour. Talk to you later?” Gwen sighs. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Sounds good!” As soon as he’s finished putting away the folded linens, Merlin hurries out into the courtyard and towards the castle gates, barely sparing a glance for the training yards. It wasn’t as though what he’d told Gwen had been a total lie, Arthur did have practice that afternoon. He’d just need to find someone else to help him out of his armour. Merlin hurries out of the courtyard and weaves his way through the lower town, slowing slightly as he approaches the southern gate. There are guards stationed there, as usual, and the street is fairly empty, it being too early still for the merchants and farmers to be closing up shop and heading back home for the evening. Merlin hesitates, tucked just inside the gap between two buildings, casting around for something he could use. Finally, his gaze lands on a cart that someone had left a few metres up the street from where he was standing. “ Ċyr. ” The cart slowly starts rolling forward, and Merlin gives it the slightest nudge with his magic to keep it on track. The guards glance over their shoulders at the sound as it gets closer, and do a double take as they say what was coming towards them. As it rumbles past them and out the gate, they started after it, running to catch up and stop it. Merlin slips out of his hiding place and hurries through the gate and off towards the Forest of Brechfa. It doesn’t take him as long as he’d expected to find the druid camp. They’re well hidden, and they’ve put more work than usual into obfuscating their location, but Aglain had told Merlin what to look for and how to use his magic to show the way, and so he reaches the outskirts of the camp before evening. He slows down as he approaches, unsure of the best way to proceed. Hello, Emrys. Merlin whips around and sees Mordred standing beside him. “I’ve come to see Aglain. I need to talk to him about Morgana.” Mordred smiles. I’ll take you to him. “Er. Thanks.” Several of the druids look up as Merlin and Mordred pass, and Merlin ducks his head to try and avoid their intent stares. Finally, they reach Aglain sitting in a small group with other healers. Merlin approaches them and cleared his throat. Aglain turns around at the sound. “Ah. Welcome, Emrys. What brings you to us today?” “Morgana’s been having nightmares.” “Yes, and as I recall you convinced her not to seek help from us on that matter.” “No— I mean, she’s been having regular nightmares, not prophetic ones. Gaius’s sleeping draughts might work on them, I don’t know, but she won’t take them, she says they make the seer dreams worse. I was wondering if you’ve got anything that could help.” “We could make something. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would certainly surpass your physician’s remedies, especially in terms of managing Lady Morgana’s visions.” “That’s amazing! Thank you so much, I—” “However,” Aglain holds up one hand, cutting Merlin off, “it will not be a perfect solution. And if I help you with this I want your assurance that you will find a time when she can work with us to control her gifts more fully. You are a great sorcerer, Emrys, and I— like many here— have every faith the future you could one day bring for our people. But you are not a seer, and you are not the one to provide Morgana with the help that she needs.” Merlin nods. “Of course. I’ll… I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she could arrange a time to meet with you.” Aglain bows his head slightly. “Thank you. Please, have a seat, I’ll be back with the sleeping draught shortly.” Aglain moves off towards the nearest tent and Merlin cautiously takes his empty place in the circle of healers. A few are still looking at him, but most of them return to talking quietly among themselves. Merlin looks down at his boots, bouncing one heel anxiously. Mordred had stayed nearby for all of Merlin and Aglain’s conversation, and now he approaches the druid next to Merlin and taps her on the shoulder, whispering something in her ear. She slides over on the log she’s seated on, pulling her robes aside as she does and Mordred swings one leg, then the other over the log so that he can sit in the space she clears. Merlin glances up to find Mordred fixing him with a somewhat eerie stare. “What?” he asks. Do you really want to help Morgana? Mordred asks him in his head. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You didn’t want to help me. “Hey…” Merlin glances furtively around the circle. Don’t worry, They can’t hear what I’m saying, only you. “But I thought… I mean, in the tent the other day when you were talking to Morgana…” I can choose who I talk to this way, Emrys. Mordred smiles. You could learn to as well, if you wanted. Merlin hesitates. “I think I’m alright, thanks,” he says slowly. Mordred leans his head on one side, considering this. Then he shrugs. You still haven’t answered me. I thought I could trust you, Emrys, how do I know you won’t change your mind about Morgana too? Merlin swallows, looking down. “That’s different.” How? “You were— Someone told me not to help you. Someone who knows a lot more than I do.” What did this person tell you about me? Merlin considers Mordred. He’s dressed much like everyone else in the camp, with a green cape over his clothes. Aside from the druid’s robes he doesn’t look any different than the children Merlin grew up with. “I don’t think I should tell you that,” he answers at last. Has this person told you anything about Morgana? “They have…” What? Mordred’s eyes don’t leave Merlin’s and his face doesn’t give any clues to what he might be feeling. Merlin licks his lips. His knee is still bouncing anxiously. “Something a lot like what they said about you.” You helped me anyway, Mordred presses. And you’re helping Morgana. If this person knows so much more that you, why not listen to them? “Maybe—” Merlin stops. He takes a deep breath. “Maybe you’re worth helping anyway. Maybe I want to believe that what’s to come doesn’t have to be set in stone.” Mordred is still looking at him, his eyes burning into Merlin’s face. Merlin forces himself not to blink or look away. “I believe you,” Mordred announces out loud with some finality. “Thank you, Emrys.” “Of course.” Despite following their conversation, Merlin doesn’t feel like he has any idea why he’s being thanked, and a large part of him is fairly certain he doesn’t deserve it. Mordred seems satisfied though, he finally looks away form Merlin, swinging his legs a little as he stares up at the branches stretching between them and the darkening sky. After what feels like an interminable wait, Aglain returns, carrying a round glass bottle about the size of an apple. “Here.” He holds it out to Merlin. “One swallow each evening should be sufficient.” “Thank you.” Merlin takes it, standing up. “I’ll get it to her right away.” “Very good. And Emrys…” Merlin looks up from examining the bottle. “Yes?” “Be sure you keep your word.” “Yeah.” Merlin nods. “Yeah, of course. I’ll make sure she comes to see you as soon as possible.” “Excellent. I wish you the best of luck on your trip back.” Merlin takes this as a dismissal and nods again, giving a brief wave over his shoulder to the other druids. As he starts to go, Mordred’s voice echoes in his head. See you soon, Emrys. Tell Morgana I’ll see her soon, too. It’s late when he gets back to Camelot. The western gate is the most sparsely guarded in the evenings so rather than reenter the way he’d left Merlin circles around the city walls to enter on that side. He gets through the lower town without much trouble and makes it past the newly increased guard in the courtyard with a well-timed disturbance far from the gate. By the time the men on duty realize it was nothing more than a falling crate, he’s inside the castle and halfway to Morgana’s chambers. “Merlin.” Merlin stops in his tracks at the sound of Arthur’s voice. He grimaces, then forces his face into a smile and turns around. “Arthur.” Arthur walks towards him, slowly. “Do you know what I’ve been wondering, Merlin?” “No idea.” “ I’m wondering,” Arthur repeats, still moving closer, “what could have kept you so busy this afternoon that you could help with my armour. Or serve me at dinner. Or help me prepare for bed, although now I’m seeing that you are available for that so that saves me finding another servant for the job.” “Er…” “Hm? What’s that?” “I was… running an errand for Gaius,” Merlin goes with, deciding to keep his story at least somewhat consistent in case Arthur’s spoken to Gwen lately. “He needed some herbs for one of Morgana’s sleeping draughts.” “Morgana?” All the annoyance instantly vanishes from Arthur’s voice. “How is she?” Merlin’s taken aback by Arthur’s abrupt change in demeanour. “Er… fine?” he says. “I think. Uh, Gaius has been trying out a new recipe so—” Arthur waves him off. “No, I mean how is she? Really.” Merlin narrows his eyes slightly, searching Arthur’s face for hidden motivations. “How do you think she is?” “How should I know? That’s why I’m asking you.” “Well you saw her at dinner, I’m sure you could’ve asked after her health then. Or anytime, really, it’s not like you’ve got someone ordering you about around the clock.” “Right, but I’m not asking about Morgana’s health , Merlin, I’m asking you how she’s been since you brought her back from those kidnappers.” Merlin’s heartbeat picks up and his hand twitches towards the vial in his pocket. “Has there been any word about them by the way?” Arthur sighs. “Don't change the subject, Merlin.” “What? You’re the one so concerned with how Morgana’s doing.” “Yes, Merlin, and you won’t tell me!” “Well I don’t see why you’d think I know better than anyone else.” “Neither do I, but there still must be some point my asking, mustn’t there? ” Arthur grits out the last two words, lifting his eyebrows and staring at Merlin expectantly. Merlin leans slightly away from him. “In that case she’s fine?” He says cautiously. Arthur nods curtly. “Good.” Merlin watches him, eyes still narrowed. “Can I go then?” “Of course. Give Morgana my best.” “I never said I was going to see Morgana.” “You have to deliver her that sleeping draught don’t you? You have a perfectly good reason tonight.” Merlin nods slowly. “Tonight. Right…” “Don’t take too long, Merlin,” Arthur tells him. “I still need your help preparing for bed.” “Or you could learn to undress yourself for once.” Arthur just snorts and claps Merlin on the shoulder before heading towards his chambers. Merlin watches him for a long beat, then shakes himself and continues on toward’s Morgana’s bedroom. He has to knock twice before she opens her door, and even then only a crack. “Hi, it’s me,” Merlin says in a low voice. “Merlin? What are you doing here?” He glances over his shoulder down the hallway. “Can I come in?” “Yes, of course.” She steps back, opening the door further. Merlin steps inside and Morgana closes the door behind him. “Did Gwen give you my message?” he asks her. “She did, but I’ve told you Merlin, I’m not taking any more of Gaius’ sleeping draughts, they don’t do anything.” “I wasn’t going for Gaius.” “Then what—” “I was going to see the druids. And they gave me,” he produces the bottle from his pocket, “this.” Morgana takes it from him, turning it over in her hands. “What is it?” “You’re supposed to take one swallow each evening. Aglain said it would work better than Gaius’s.” “Are you sure?” Merlin nods. “Yeah. Not just on your seer dreams, either, it should work on normal nightmares as well.” Morgana looks up at him. “Merlin—” “It won’t be perfect!” Merlin adds quickly. “And Aglain wants you to go see the druids soon so that you can start learning to control your dreams a bit better, but it should do something.” Morgana smiles. “Thank you Merlin, I’ll try it tonight.” She turns and set the bottle on her bedside table. Turning back to Merlin, she notices his expression and frowns. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing!” Morgana scoffs. “Please, Merlin. I know you’ve got your secrets and I haven’t tried to pry them out of you, but after the past few weeks I can tell when you’re worried about something. Did something happen at the druid camp?” “No,” Merlin says quickly, shaking his head. “Well—“ he pauses, considering if he should say something about his conversation with Mordred. “No, nothing happened.” “What is it then?” “Er…” Merlin shifts his weight where he’s standing. He still doesn’t know quite what to make of Arthur’s recent behaviour, and he doesn’t want to alarm Morgana. But, on the other hand, if he were in her shoes he’d want to be warned. “I ran into Arthur on my way back and I think …” Merlin bites his lip, hesitating. “I think he might know about us.” Morgana stares at him for a long second before she throws her head back with a great peal of laughter. When she finally reigns herself in, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” she says, the corners of her lips still twitching. “I’m sure you have a good reason for thinking that, but honestly, Arthur ? He’s about as observant as a lump of wood.” “No,” Merlin shakes his head, “he definitely knows something. He said some things when you first went to see the druids too that mad me think he might but I thought I was just imagining things, now…” He trails off, clicking his tongue softly. “If he doesn’t know about our magic then he certainly thinks he knows something.” “Alright,” says Morgana in a tone that makes it abundantly clear she’s just humouring him. “What did he say?” “Which time?” “Both.” Merlin fills her as best as he can remember, trying to present it as cohesively and concisely as he can. When finishes, Morgana gives him a pitying look. “Oh, Merlin.” “What?” She rolls her eyes. “ None of that makes it seems like he things either of us has magic. He clearly thinks we’re conducting some kind of secret courtship.” “What?” Merlin splutters. “Where on earth are you getting that from?” Morgana gives an exaggerated sigh. “From all of it? It couldn’t be more obvious, and, no offence intended, but he couldn’t be further off about my… interests in that regard.” “Yeah, well…” Merlin glances at her. “Likewise.” “Ri— Wait? Really?” “Yeah.” “So, Gwen?” Merlin shakes he head. “We’re friends. And I do love her, but not like that. We’re not… you know, that , any more than the two of us are.” “Hm.” Morgana studies him for a moment, then shakes her head, getting herself back on subject. “Anyway, Arthur’s harmless. We might as well let him keep up his delusions. It provides a convenient cover at the very least.” “Yeah, but…” Merlin flounders for some counterargument. “What if he tells someone?” Morgana smirks. “He won’t. You can tell that from what he said to you. Besides, he wouldn’t want to do anything that would make Uther try to get rid of you.” “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re right about that.” “Merlin. He’s never had a manservant that’s managed to last more that two weeks, let alone close to a year .” Merlin blinks, surprised. “Oh.” “Exactly. So we’re safe.” Merlin still decides to keep an eye on Arthur. Everything seems normal, but Merlin occasionally catches Arthur looking at him during strange moments and Merlin can’t shake the feeling that for as much as he’s watching Arthur, Arthur is watching him right back. He doesn’t bother bringing it up with Morgana again, she’s busy enough getting ready for her trip to the druids. They decide that the best cover is to claim that she’s going on a pilgrimage to her father’s tomb, it’s a long enough trip that Uther won’t question her being gone the full day, and she makes it often enough that it’s not an odd request. The challenge is convincing him to let her go alone. Morgana suggests everything from requesting Merlin accompany her to giving Gwen the slip once they’re in the woods to enchanting one of the knights so that he won’t remember anything from the trip. Merlin isn’t totally sold on the first suggestion, and he does his best to steer them as far away from the last as possible. In the end, Morgana just lies. She tells Uther she’ll be making the pilgrimage with Gwen, only to give her the day off and set out alone towards the Forest of Brechfa. Merlin watches her for as long as he can from Arthur’s window hoping that nothing goes horribly wrong. Nothing does, thankfully enough, and Morgana returns full of glowing stories about connecting with the natural world and the triple goddess, and wearing a necklace she said Mordred’s made for her. He’s made a similar charm for Merlin as well, apparently, which she gives to him at their magic session the next day. Merlin studies at it skeptically, but takes it from her without comment. “They have a lot of ways of divining, apparently,” Morgana tells him, her eyes shining. “Seers are rare, but most people with magical talent, or who have trained long enough can learn to scry using a mirror or a pool of water. They didn’t tell me much about it this time, they’re more focused on teaching me to manage what I can already do. Apparently though,” she leans across the table between them, pushing a strand of hair back with one fluid motion, “the most powerful kind of scrying is done using crystals.” “Crystals?” Morgana nods. “There’s apparently a cave full of them, but there are a few that people have taken and kept to scry with.” “Really? Do the druids have one then?” “No.” Morgana sighs. “They wouldn’t tell me much about them, actually. Next time, hopefully.” She absently fiddled with the necklace she’d gotten from Mordred, looking down at the open pages of the book in front of her. They’re in Gaius’s chambers again, this time because he’s in the lower town tending to one of the castle seamstresses who’s come down with a fever. As he left he told Merlon he didn’t expect to be back until late that evening and Merlin had taken the opportunity to make use of the out of the way and relatively un-trafficked (at this hour, anyway) nature of the room. “Should we get started then?” Merlin says after a moment. Morgana looks up from the book. “Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. I probably wasted half our time talking.” “It’s fine,” Merlin assures her. “You should come next time,” Morgana says, flipping through the pages to find the spell they’d left off working with. “I’m sure they could teach you things as well, even if you’re not a seer.” “Yeah…” Merlin shifts uncomfortably. He hasn’t gone into detail with Morgana about the actual extent of his powers yet, or anything approaching the question of destinies, but he suspects it might come up during several hours of magic practice with the druids. “I’ll think about it,” he say at last. “Shall we?" The spell is one meant to enchant weapons into fighting on the caster’s behalf. It’s more complicated than anything Merlin’s done with Morgana so far, and not something he’s ever even tried himself. The main problem last session wasn’t in actually accomplishing the spell but with the materials at their disposal, none of which resembled weapons. When they finally got it working, they’d just ended up with a collection of brooms and hairbrushes halfheartedly bumping against each other in the air. This time, though, Merlin’s thought ahead and brought a collection of practice swords from the armoury. They’re the wooden ones Arthur uses for training squires, but Merlin’s hoping they’ll still have a better idea of what to do than the hairbrushes did. He and Morgana spread the swords out in two lines on the floor— three apiece— and then stand over them, facing each other with the rows between them. “Ready?” Merlin asks. Morgana tilts her head to one side, giving him a smirk. “Of course.” The swords sail into the air, making for each other almost immediately. They don’t pair up neatly, but rather jump from opponent to opponent, blocking and striking in turns. Morgana cheers, egging her side on, and Merlin responds in kind, shouting directions and encouragements to his swords. “Come on, you can do it!” “Is that all you can do? I’ve seen better from children playing with sicks!” “No, not there— Defend!” The door bangs open and Merlin and Morgana both jump, spinning in unison to face it as the swords clattered to the ground. “Ah, Morgana.” Arthur seems completely unperturbed by the sight of Merlin and Morgana standing in the middle of Gaius’s chambers surrounded by six of his practice swords. “I thought you might be here. My father requests your presence at dinner this evening.” Morgana smiles and inclines her head smoothly. “Of course. You can tell him I’ll be there.” Merlin’s heart is racing and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears, but Morgana looks as composed as ever. Arthur smiles. “Excellent.” Merlin swallows. “Hang on,” he says, the words seemingly coming out of their own accord even as his brain screams at him to shut up. Arthur looks at him expectantly. “Yes?” “You’re going to ask what we’re doing? Or why Morgana’s in Gaius’s chambers?” Arthur frowns for a moment, mock considering. “Humm…. No,” he shakes his head, flashing Merlin a smile. “I don’t see why that’s any of my business, really.” He lifts his eyebrows at Merlin with a quick wave and turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him. Merlin stares at the door, disbelief mounting. When he’s sure Arthur was gone, he rounds on Morgana. “Alright, tell me that’s not suspicious.” Morgana’s calmly collecting the swords from the ground. She straightens up with a sigh. “Merlin, there’s nothing suspicious about Arthur being an idiot,” she tells him, setting the swords on the table. “Now, I’ve got to go get ready for dinner with Uther.” She sighs again, more heavily as she swept towards the door. “Wish me luck…” Over the next few days, Merlin barely has time to worry about Arthur. There’s a new crop of trainees ready to be knighted, and he’s kept busy with preparations for the ceremony and the ensuing feast. On top of that, the seamstress’s fever has spread to the rest of her family and when he isn’t polishing more armour than he feels should actually be his responsibility and hanging decorations in the great hall, Merlin is kept up late helping Gaius make poultices and brew herbs into tinctures. He finally gets a bit of a break the afternoon before the ceremony’s taking place when Gwen— in all her infinite magnificence— is able to wheedle them both into jobs setting the tables, a task that sounds important but actually takes all of five minutes with more than one person and allows them to spend most of the half hour they have to do it sitting in two of the nicer chairs talking. “I think I prefer knighting ceremonies to proper events,” Gwen declares, looking over the hall. Merlin tilts his head to the side as he turns to look at her. “How do you mean?” “Just… Well, most of the time you have to worry about how to act around the visiting nobles, or there’s an extra level of solemnity because we’re celebrating something important, you know. But with knighting ceremonies it’s the same people as are always around the castle, there’s just an excuse to celebrate.” “For the nobles maybe. We’re stuck doing extra work and cleaning up after them.” “We still have some fun, don’t pretend we don’t. There’s plenty of wine and nicer food to go around even if we have to be working.” “Alright, yeah,” Merlin smiles. “I guess it is nice to have something to celebrate.” “Exactly! We need excuses to have a good time.” Gwen sighs, leaning back in her seat. “I remember the first knighting ceremony I went to. It was for Sir Leon. He wasn’t the only one getting knighted, but he was one of them. It was before I started working in the palace by about two years I think?” She frowns. “Yes. That’s right.” “Why’d you go then?” “Haven’t I told you? My mother used to serve his family. I would play with him sometimes as children. He’s several years older than I am, of course, but I could usually convince him, at least for a couple years. Elyan came, too— to the knighting, I mean. We didn’t get to watch he actual ceremony, but Mother took the two of us with her to the feast after.” She smiles at the memory. “Sounds nice. Did anything interesting happen?” “Oh, I can’t remember, I was 10. I think Elyan nearly choked on a grape? It’s been too long for me to say for sure.” “D’you think he’ll ever come back to Camelot?” “Who, Elyan?” “Yeah, I’d like to meet him, sometime.” Gwen sighs, looking troubled. “I don’t know. I hope so, but he did even come back when our father died, and I have no way of getting in touch with him…” She looks down, straightening out the knife closest to her. “I didn’t talk about him for months after he left. I thought… I don’t know, we were so close as children and even more after our mother died, and I couldn’t forgive him for leaving for so long . After our father died though… I think it helps,” she straightens up a little, “to talk about him. I don’t know when he plans on coming back, but if he does he’ll always have a place.” “I’m sure he’ll come back Gwen. It’s just a matter of waiting.” Merlin smiles at her. “Who knows,” he adds, “he could even show up tonight!” Gwen laughs. “Somehow I doubt that, but thank you Merlin.” “Aw come on Gwen,” Merlin nudges her with his foot. “Something’s gotta happen to make tonight interesting.” “Or,” Gwen smiles, nudging him back, “we could just have a perfectly pleasant, uneventful evening.” Merlin doesn’t even make it to the feast. It still happens— or a significantly more subdued version of it still happens from what Gwen tells him later— but Merlin’s too busy trying to talk Arthur out of the duel to actually attend. The duel. Morgause. Merlin has no idea what made her come to Camelot like that, or what she could possibly have to tell Arthur about a woman who’s been dead for, for her looks, most of her life. He has no idea why he follows Arthur’s horse into Odin’s territory aside from the fact that he’s never really been able to sit idly by and let Arthur endanger himself. While they’re waiting for Morgause to prepare the spell Arthur says that his father might be wrong about magic and Merlin’s heart nearly stops. Even with everything that happens next, he clings to that moment, holding it close to his chest like something fragile and precious. When they get back, Arthur goes straight to the throne room. By the time Merlin gets there he has his sword to Uther’s throat and looks ready to strike. “Arthur!” Merlin yells. “Don’t! I know you don't want to do this!” Arthur doesn’t turn around. “My mother is dead because of him!” “Killing your father won't bring her back.” Merlin’s never seen Arthur this angry, he has no idea if anything he says will even get through to him. “You've lost one parent. Do you really want to lose another?” “Listen to him Arthur.” Uther’s voice is low and wary, he’s looking like his son with something approaching fear. Merlin wants to tell him to shut up, that he’s not doing this for Uther but because he knows Arthur couldn’t live with himself after, but instead he says, “Arthur, please, put the sword down.” “You heard what my mother said! After everything he has done, do you believe he deserves to live? He executes those who use magic, and yet he has used it himself! You have caused so much suffering and pain! I will put an end to that!” Merlin hears the faintest sound behind him, someone else coming in maybe, but he ignores it. He thinks about Morgana, the druids, the people he’s seen die since he came to Camelot. The ones he’s killed. And he thinks about Uther, frozen, staring at Merlin like he’s his last hope. “Morgause is lying!” The easy way out is to blame it on magic, to play into what Arthur’s already been fed his whole life. But the past few weeks— the moment in Morgause’s fortress… Merlin’s begun to let himself hope and he can’t bring himself to let that go yet. His eyes find Uther again and Merlin takes a shaky breath. He has to walk a delicate line here if he wants to avoid execution. “She was showing you an illusion. Everything...everything your mother said to you...those were Morgause's words.” Arthur wavers, almost imperceptibly. “You don’t know that.” “You said yourself that your mother died before you even opened your eyes. How can seeing you look up at her have been the happiest moment of her life?” No matter what Morgana says— no matter what Merlin says at times— Arthur’s not an idiot. His eyes glued to Arthur’s back, Merlin continues more gently, “I know, Arthur. I know you want answers and that you hoped Morgause could give them to you, but—” there are other people to ask, other ways to fix these wrongs… “But you can’t let yourself do this, you can’t let Morgause manipulate you.” Arthur is still staring at Uther. “Listen to him,” Uther’s voice is low and barely controlled, “he’s speaking the truth.” Arthur’s grip slackens, just barely, on the grip of his sword, and Uther takes the chance to shift back ever so slightly. “I swear on my life,” Uther continues, “I loved your mother. There isn’t a day passes that I don’t wish that she were still alive. I could never have done anything to hurt her.” Arthur drops his sword and backs away, all the tension and energy draining from him. He looks deflated, his armour seems to pull down on him in a way that Merlin’s never seen. Uther moves forward, but Arthur turns away from him. Merlin watches as Arthur walks from the hall without comment, brushing past Merlin like he’s not even there. Merlin looks from Uther to Gaius— who must have come in at some point. They’re looking at each other with some kind of unspoken communication, and they both glance at Merlin, who ducks his head and goes to follow Arthur. He finds Arthur in his room, staring out the window into the courtyard and rubbing his thumb over the ring he wears on his index finger. He doesn’t turn when Merlin enters the room, and Merlin hovers by the door wondering if he should make some noise to announce himself. Just as he’s about to, Arthur says, “Did you mean what you said back there?” His voice is flat and emotionless. “Did you mean what you said about your father possibly being wrong about magic?” Arthur turns his head, glancing at Merlin before turning back to the window. “Yes,” he says, in the same distant and hollow tone. “At the time I did.” “And what about now?” Arthur turns to face him properly then, crossing his arms over his chest. “I believe I asked you a question first, Merlin.” Merlin sighs, averting his eyes from Arthur’s gaze. “Everything I said in the hall… I meant.” “And what about the parts of it you did not say.” Merlin looks up at him. “My lord?” Arthur sighs. “Don’t pretend Merlin, the idiot act only really suits you for so long.” There’s the ghost of a joke in his tone, but for the most part his voice is still listless and deflated. Merlin forces himself to meet Arthur’s gaze. “I meant it when I said Morgause was lying. I don’t think that was really your mother, I think that Morgause was manipulating you, and I think that it was always her intention to sew discord between you and your father.” Merlin takes a deep breath. Arthur is still looking at him expectantly. “But,” Merlin lets the breath out slowly, “I also spoke to Gaius. And not everything Morgause’s illusion said to you was false. I don’t know all of it, but Uther did use magic to bring you into this world and your mother did die as a result.” Arthur looks like he’s been hit in the chest with a battering ram. He opens his mouth, then closes it, turning slowly away from Merlin and sinking into the chair behind his desk. Merlin doesn’t move. “Thank you,” Arthur says at last. “And… Thank you for not letting me do anything rash.” Merlin nods. “Yeah, of course.” Arthur looks up at him. “I will stop what he’s been doing. The burnings, the executions, the suffering… I’ll put an end to it as soon as I can.” Merlin feels something painfully close to real hope rise in his chest. “Really?” “Of course. My mother wouldn’t have wanted all this in her name, of that I am sure.” Despite himself, despite the amazing and unbelievable shot he has at letting himself believe something will change soon, Arthur’s words give Merlin pause. He opens his mouth, then thinks better of it. He nods again, biting his tongue. Arthur notices his hesitation. “What?” “Nothing. Is there anything else I can do for you sire?” “Out with it, Merlin. I thought you of all people would be happy.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur sighs, “Nothing, Merlin, as usual. Stop avoiding the question.” Merlin hesitates. “I… really don’t think this is the sort of thing I can say, sire.” Arthur looks at him for a long time. “Well. In that case, you’re dismissed.” Merlin turns to go. “However,” Arthur adds, “I would like to say that— were I not in a position where I am beholden to my father’s laws— I would be encouraging anyone I trusted to speak their mind when it comes to matters on which I am ignorant.” “Well, if that were the case I’d say that if you’re able to see that there’s suffering, then that should be enough to stop it, it shouldn’t just be because of your mother.” He gives Arthur a small smile. “But, since it’s not the case I’ll just say that I’ll see you in the morning.” Arthur lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Goodnight, Merlin.” Merlin doesn’t mention this conversation to Morgana. He doesn’t mention it to Gaius either, though every part of him wants to shout it from the rooftops. He doesn’t want to risk it, to get his hopes up and think that maybe Arthur could change his mind…. It’s better to keep it to himself. To keep it tucked away, something he can take out later and turn over, in the few quiet hours he gets to himself when he dares himself to consider the possibility of being free. He notices the bracelet at his next magic session with Morgana. It’s a broad metal band covered in an intricate design and he’s sure he’s never seen it anywhere before. “What’s that?” he asks as they clear up the unused sitting room they’re using this week. Morgana glances down at the bracelet, touching it with her other hand. “Oh…You remember Morgause?” “Yes…” Merlin says, immediately wary. “She gave it to me before she left. I don’t know what about me made he want to part with it, but I couldn’t be more glad she did.” Morgana smiles, running her thumb long the patterns in the metal. “It’s a healing bracelet,” she explains, “I haven’t needed the druid’s potion since I’ve started wearing it.” “Really?” Merlin looks at the designs more carefully, but he can’t glean anything from them. “Have you spoken with Gaius about it?” he asks, keeping his tone carefully light. “Or the druids?” Morgana frowns at him. “I spoke to Gaius briefly, but mostly because I wanted to see if he knew anything else about Morgause. I don’t see why I should speak to the druids, though. Obviously I’ll see them again, I was hoping to go in a few days actually, but… There’s no reason to seek them out just for this.” “Yeah,” Merlin nodded, “yeah, you’re probably right.” he looked down at the cloth he was using to wipe chalk off the table (the transmutation spell they’d been working on had needed a sigil). “Just— Well, we don’t know Morgause’s intentions, do we? I mean, she certainly wanted to manipulate Arthur.” “I don’t think she would have given me a healing bracelet if she meant me harm,” Morgana’s voices rises with disbelief. “Surely there are better ways.” “I’m not saying she was! I don’t know what she was trying to do, and maybe she did genuinely want to help you. All I’m saying is that we can’t be sure what her intentions were so we should probably be careful.” Morgana looks at him, brow creased and her eyes slightly narrowed. Merlin expects her to push back more, but instead she just sighs. “Well, I’ll ask the druids about it when I see them next, just to be sure. But I’m wearing it until then.” “Of course, anything that helps with your dreams.” Merlin busies himself with collecting the last of their supplies, gathering them in one of Gaius’s old medicine bags that he appropriated for the purpose. “Speaking of things your worried about…” Morgana says, brushing off her and hands and leaning back against the table. “Any more evidence for Arthur’s supposed insight into what we’ve been up to.” Merlin glances up at her and laughs awkwardly. “Uh, no,” he says looking back down. He thinks about their conversation about Ygraine and magic and adds, “I think you were probably right about that, after all. If Arthur wanted to let me know that he knew he’d be a lot more straightforward about it.” “Hm,” Morgana pushes herself off the table and follows Merlin as he starts towards the door. “Well, I told you there wasn’t anything to worry about, didn’t I?” “You also think that he assumed he thought we were courting and there hasn’t been much proof of that either,” Merlin points out. Morgana laughs, holding the door open for Merlin, then stepping through herself and shutting it behind them. “Merlin, he saw you bringing me flowers and he knows we’ve been meeting, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t give us both a threatening talk about our intentions soon.” “He wouldn’t really do that would he?” “Merlin…” Morgana says, like he’s being naïve and this is a very standard situation that anyone should expect to encounter. “Come on,” Merlin says, snorting, “it’s Arthur , he wouldn’t.” “Arthur wouldn’t what?” Gwen has just rounded the corner, carrying a large basket of sheets. Merlin looks to Morgana, mouth open. “Er…” Gwen looks at them, still smiling. “What?” She glances between them and leans back a bit with a knowing look. “Is this about your secret meetings?” “What? No.” Merlin laughs, hearing his voice rise, “Why would you— We’re not…” “You’ve been having them for several weeks and you’ve just clearly finished with one,” Gwen points out, shifting the basket’s weight to one arm. “I’m not going to tell on you!” she adds. “But you don’t have to pretend that’s not what’s happening.” Merlin’s mouth is still hanging open as to tries to figure out how to formulate a response to that. “We’ve nothing to hide,” Morgana sweeps in to save him, smiling, “Merlin and I have just started a book club, that’s all. Unfortunately, Arthur seems convinced it’s a cover for something much more scandalous.” Gwen looks confused for a second. “Oh!” Her eyes go wide. “But why— I mean, you’re both…” Morgana sighs. “Trust me Gwen, I know . But that’s Arthur for you.” “So what are you reading, then?” Gwen asked, looking to Merlin. “Oh, uh, a book,” Merlin says, “that… we got… from Gaius. Or, the recommendation was from Gaius, we got the book from Geoffrey.” Gwen nods, smiling at the babble coming out of Merlin’s mouth. “I see.” She looks down at her basket. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it then. I’ll see you in the morning, Morgana?” “Of course,” Morgana smiles. “Have a good night, Gwen.” Gwen nods again and continues past them down the hall. “Night!” Merlin calls out, delayed over his shoulder, and Gwen turns around a little and gives him a half-wave. Morgana turns to Merlin. “Well, I’m off to bed, Merlin. Try not to worry too much, alright? Gwen doesn’t suspect anything, why should anyone else. Although we many need to pick a specific book next time she asks.” Morgana goes to visit the druids again the same day that Arthur planned to take Merlin on a hunt. Merlin sees Morgana readying her horse as he and Arthur ride out of the courtyard, their horses laden with enough supplies for an overnight trip. He nods at her as they pass, and she gives him a broad smile. Normally Merlin’s at best indifferent to hunting, but this time he’s glad for the distraction, honestly. Glad to get out of the castle and stop worrying when being seen with Morgana will land him in trouble, or when someone will put the pieces together and figure out what’s really going on. It’s nice to ride quietly behind Arthur, to watch him shoot at wild fowl and rabbits and make the fire when he’s done. It feels refreshingly normal. Arthur doesn’t comment on his silence for once. He’s been quiet himself since Morgause’s visit and everything that came after. Not in a way that most people would notice, he still runs drills with the knights and bellows orders at the trainees the same as always, still gives reports on patrols and weighs in at council meetings… But there’s a different quality to him now, mostly around Uther. He’s always been careful with how he says things around his father, even if he wouldn’t have admitted it, but now there’s something more. Merlin couldn’t figure out what it was at first, but now he’s fairly sure that something in Arthur has given up on Uther. He’s still treating him as his king, but not as his father. Merlin pokes at the fire with a stick and glances up Arthur over it. He’s staring into the flames, his face blank aside from a slight crease on his forehead. “We should probably think about getting to be soon,” Merlin says. Arthur doesn’t look up from the flames. “You go ahead Merlin, I think I’ll stay here for a little while longer.” “Are you sure? I can stay, if you want.” “And why would I want that?” Arthur asks, finally looking up at Merlin. Merlin shrugs. “For company. Or conversation, if you want to talk.” “There’s nothing to talk about, Merlin.” Arthur sounds tired, wooden. Like whatever mask he’s been putting on has fallen, or maybe he’s just taken it off. “Well we don’t have to talk about anything important. We could talk about the hunt, or… the stew. Or nothing. Like I said, I’m fine just staying here for company.” Arthur looks up at him, really looking at him in a way that he rarely does. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what you said, Merlin. About… my mother, and… Well, I’ve been giving a lot of things you said some thought.” “You have?” “Don’t look so surprised, you do say insightful things on occasion.” “Well it’s less that than it is the notion of you thinking.” A grin barely cracks Arthur’s face. The next second it’s gone and Merlin’s not even sure he didn’t imagine it. “I don’t know what to do,” Arthur says after a long moment of silence. “I’ve spent so much of my life trying o live up to what my father want for me, and I’ve grateful for so much of what he’s taught me, but…” He absently plays with a stick he’s holding, rolling it slowly between his fingers. “I don’t know what to do with the thought that he’s wrong about so much.” “Well… you’ve always known you would do some things differently, didn’t you? When you’re king. You’ve said as much to me.” “Maybe. But…” Arthur leaned back, gesturing with the stick. “There’s a difference between disagreeing with how he approaches problems that I also see and… fundamentally taking issue with the very idea that sorc— that something he sees as a threat to the threat to the kingdom is even that. And it’s not just my mother, even before that…” he looks down. “Well, you know.” “Do you—” A knot starts to form in Merlin’s throat and he swallows. “Do you really mean that?” Arthur glances at him. He seems genuinely surprised at Merlin’s question. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He held Merlin’s gaze over the fire. The flames crackled between them in the otherwise silent forest. Arthur stood up suddenly. “Right. We should probably get some sleep. Put the fire out, will you?” “Merlin!” He’s barely been back at Camelot a day when Gwen catches his elbow as he’s walking back from unpacking Arthur’s things and pulls him into an alcove. “As soon as you’ve got a free moment, come to Morgana’s chambers? We have a… situation.” “Wait, Gwen, what’s—” But she was already hurrying off down the hallway. Merlin has no idea what to make of it, but he quickly drops his bag off in his room then run-walks through the halls to Morgana’s room. He knocks on the door and waits, catching his breath. “Who is it?” He cant tell if it’s Gwen or Morgana through the door. “Merlin,” he answer. “Er, Gwen said I should come?” The door swings inward and Morgana waves him inside with an exasperated look. “Really Gwen?” She says as Merlin follows her into the room. “There’s no need to worry Merlin over this.“ Gwen sighs. “I thought he should know. And I thought you might listen if there are two of us telling you to maybe be a bit more careful?” Morgana makes a deriesive nose in her throat. “It’s not as though there are guards after him this time, no one even knows he’s here.” “Wait, who’s here?” Merlin says, looking between the two of them. Morgana turns her head over her shoulder, “Mordred? You can come out now.” Merlin does a double take as Mordred, dressed in travelling clothes, steps out from behind one of Morgana’s curtains. “Hello Merlin,” he says, smiling. “What are you doing here?” Merlin faintly registers that this is the first time Mordred’s called him anything other than Emrys. “He followed me back from the druid camp last night.” Morgana moves around to stand next to Mordred, putting her hand one his shoulder. “I thought it was best to let him stay the night, he can go back this evening once it gets dark.” “How did he even get in?” Merlin asks incredulous. “Wait, the druids?” Gwen frowns at Morgana. “I thought you were at your father’s grave?” Morgana and Merlin look at each other, panicked. Morgana’s eyes are wide and the hand on Mordred’s shoulder tightens just a little. Merlin swallows. His mouth is dry. He opens it but he’s not sure what to say. “Morgana?” Gwen looks from one to the other of them “What is it? Why were you with the druids? Did— Did you go looking for Mordred?” “Gwen,” Merlin’s voice sounds rough when it comes out. He doesn’t break his stare with Morgana, trying to silently confirm he’s doing the right thing. “Can we trust you with something?” “Of course, anything, you know that.” Merlin swallows again. “No, Gwen, I mean really trust you.” He lets his gaze slip towards her, just barely towards where she’s standing. “This— This is the kind of thing that you won’t be able to tell anyone , and… and if anyone finds out you know you’d be in just as much danger as us.” “Of course, Merlin, I’d never say anything to put either of you in danger.” Merlin looks back at Morgana. She nods— just barely. Merlin’s not entirely sure it was even meant as a nod until she takes a deep breath and nods again. “Yes,” she says, her voice shaky. “I say we tell her.” Gwen’s looking at them, her brow furrowed and her mouth half open. Her arms are crossed and a few of her curls are coming loose from how she’s tied them back. She looks so like herself that Merlin realizes that he can’t speak, can’t open his mouth and say the words that will mean he never gets to see her look at her with anything other than disgust or fear or hatred. “We have magic.” Morgana’s standing with her shoulders squared and her chin held high. “Merlin and I. He’s been teaching me and the druids have been helping me with my nightmares.” Gwen looks stunned. “Oh.” She says, blinking. “I… How long?” “Which part?” Morgana asked. “Ah, all of it, I guess?” Gwen looks like she’s still digesting the information. “How long has Merlin been teaching you, how many times have you been to the druids…” “Just twice,” Morgana says. “Three times,” Mordred corrects her quietly. “Right, three. The two most recent times I said I was visiting my father’s grave, and then also when Uther thought I was kidnapped.” “I… think I need to sit down,” Gwen says slowly, turning and pulling out the chair from Morgana’s vanity. “What about you? How long…” she asks, looking at Merlin. “I was born with it,” Merlin says, finally finding his voice. “I’ve had magic for as long as I can remember, I can’t imagine not having it.” Gwen nods, still looking overwhelmed. “Perhaps you should explain everything form the beginning.” They do their best, starting with the fire in Morgana’s chambers and going through everything with the druids and their lessons. Mordred gets bored partway through and wanders over to the window. Here and there Merlin adds in a few things about what he’s done with his magic since coming to Camelot. Most of it is stuff he hasn’t told Morgana yet— she’s had surprisingly few questions about his magic beyond what spells he knows and how to do them, something he’s been quietly glad for since it means he can keep being vague about just how much power he has. Merlin doesn’t share anything big now. He mentions that Gaius knows, and the part his magic played in saving Arthur’s life when he first arrived in Camelot, and other than that he stays quiet. Gwen says quiet too, not asking questions, just listening to the explanation, her eyes downcast, one hand covering her chin and mouth. When they’re done, she takes a deep breath and looks up at them, expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, she surges to her feet, wrapping her arms around both of them at once and pulling them into her. Merlin brings his free arm up instinctively to return the gesture. He feels Morgana stiffen next to him in surprise, then slowly bring her arm up to embrace Gwen too. “Thank you for trusting me,” Gwen says over Merlin’s shoulder. She pulls back. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad that you did. And I promise , I will do everything to be worthy of that trust. I won’t tell a soul.” Tears prick at Merlin’s eyes as a face-splitting grin spreads over his face. “Thank you, Gwen. Really. I— I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” Morgana nods. “Yes, thank you, Gwen. I’m sorry we had to keep it hidden from you.” “No, don’t be!” Gwen’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course you’d want to keep this quiet, if the wrong person found out…” She trails off, biting her lip. She looks at Merlin “I do have one question, though.” “What is it?” “Your friend. In Ealdor.” Morgana inhales, realizing where she’s going. “Ohhh, of course. The sorcerer. The one who save Arthur’s life. What was his name again?” “Will.” Merlin hears Gwen’s voice at the same time as his, like a strange echo. He takes a deep breath. “What about him?” “Well, he was a sorcerer too, wasn’t he? Or was that just… Well, I was just wondering if he might have been covering up for you.” “No, uh…” Merlin looks down. “No. Will never had magic. He just…” He sees Will’s face as he lay on the ground, hears his final words. “He was protecting me. So that I could keep serving Arthur.” Gwen’s hand on his arm is warm and comforting. “I’m sorry. I know I didn’t know him long, but he seemed like a good friend.” “He was.” Merlin puts his hand on Gwen’s and gives it a quick squeeze. With a deep breath he looks up at Arthur. “You still need to tell us why Mordred’s here though.” “I told you, he followed me back from the druid camp. I didn’t see him do it, he found me in the stables while I was returning my horse so I brought him up to my rooms.” Mordred, realizing they’re speaking about him, leaves the window and comes over to them. “I have something to tell you and Morgana,” he tells Merlin, taking Morgana’s hand. “And I wanted to spend more time with her. She’s so busy with the elders when she visits, I don’t get to see her.” “Oh, Mordred.” Morgana kneels down next to him. “I can come earlier in the day if that would help? Or I could see if I can get out of the castle for a longer trip sometime. It’ll be easier now that I can talk to Gwen about it. Would you like that?” Mordred nods, beaming. “What was it you wanted to tell us?” Merlin asks him. “Oh, right.” Mordred looks at Gwen, then back to Merlin. I meant it to be just the two of you. “Anything you want to tell us you can tell her as well.” “Absolutely,” Morgana assures Mordred. “Gwen’s helped you before, remember? Besides, I’m not about to start lying to her after having just told her the everything.” Mordred looks directly at Merlin. But you haven’t told them everything, Emrys. A chill runs down Merlin’s spine. “I trust Gwen,” he says firmly, folding his arms. “So unless you’ve got a good reason to keep stalling just tell us what you’ve got to say.” “ Merlin ,” Morgana chastises him. “He’s a child.” Mordred doesn’t seem bothered by either Merlin’s tone or Morgana’s defence of him. Instead, he walked over to a chest by the wall and pushed himself on top of it, kicking his legs so that his heels bounced against the front. “A man came to the druid camp a few night ago, he wanted to talk with some of the grown ups and I don’t think he realized I was there but I heard what he said. He wanted to know if they’d help him break into Camelot.” “What?” Merlin takes a step forward. “Why?” “There’s a crystal.” Mordred stops kicking and leans forward. “In the vaults. Alvarr— the man— said that it’s from the Crystal Cave.” Merlin hears Morgana inhale sharply beside him and she moves a few steps closer. “They didn’t want to help him,” Mordred continues. “I don’t know if he’ll try without them, but I thought I should warn you in case he does. Also, maybe Morgana could go get it and use it for scrying.” “That’s amazing,” Morgana breathes. Merlin glances over at her to see that her eyes are wide and she’s regarding Mordred with rapt attention. “But wait,” Gwen stands up slowly, “if this is in the vaults there’s probably a good reason, it could be dangerous or be something that belongs to the royal family.” Morgana laughs. “Most of what’s in the vaults does’t belong to Uther any more than your purse belongs to a pickpocket. It’s mostly things he took during the Great Purge and perceived to have some value.” “Gwen does raise a good point though,” Merlin says slowly, looking at Mordred. “If someone wants it badly enough to break into Camelot it’s definitely got some power, and if the druids don’t want to help than I’m not sure it’s the kind of power we want to get involved with.” Mordred shrugs. “I don’t know why Alvarr wanted it, he didn’t say. But the druids don’t like to do anything that might get us in trouble with Camelot. The king’s been trying to wipe us out for years, he doesn’t need another reason.” The casual way he says the last part makes Merlin shudder. “What are these Crystal Caves?” He asks, to change the subject. “What’s so special about them?” “They’re a place of great magic,” Morgana answers. “The druids mentioned them the first time I went to see them. The crystals are powerful scrying tools, but not everyone can use them, and even if you can they’re a double-edged sword. Apparently a lot of people see things that they’d be better off not knowing.” Her eyes are still wide and her voice is eager. She leans in as she explains this in hushed awe and Merlin can’t help but feel that despite the content of what she’s saying Morgana would do anything to have a chance to use one of those crystals. “My friend Kara says that she walked by it once, but I think she’s lying,” Mordred tells them. “She grew up with our grove and I didn’t, but I still know that they didn’t go to the Valley of the Fallen Kings before I got there, and we haven’t since I joined so I don’t know when she would have gone.” “The Valley of the Fallen Kings?” Morgana asks him turning to face him again. “Is that where it is?” Merlin makes eye contact with Gwen. From her face, she seems to be having the same misgivings about Morgana’s enthusiasm as he is. Holding her eyes, he clears his throat. “Er. Well, thanks for telling us about this, Mordred, it’s great information to have, really helpful, thanks again. Do you mind if I just talk to Morgana for a second?” Mordred shrugs, noncommittally. Morgana gives Merlin a confused look, but doesn’t protest as Merlin leads her and Gwen into the hallway outside of Morgana’s rooms. As soon as he’s checked that the coast is clear, Merlin rounds on Morgana. “We are not breaking into the vaults.” “What?” Morgana says on a burst of surprised half-laughter. “Why would you even suggest that.” “Because Mordred came here to specifically tell you about something valuable in the vaults? Something that you seem way too interested in getting at despite the fact that it’s apparently got incredibly volatile magic and is being held in one of the more closely guarded parts of the kingdom?” “Merlin’s right,” Gwen agrees. “The important part of what Mordred had to say was the fact that someone might be trying to break into the citadel. I don’t think he realized that, but it is, and both of you seem more interested in the crystal itself.” “Aren’t you?” She directs it more at Merlin than at Gwen. “Something that powerful— something that important, it shouldn’t be in Uther’s hands. It belongs with people who will actually appreciate it.” “And who’s that? The druids? Or you ." Morgana lowers her chin, glowering at him. He’s clearly struck a nerve, but Merlin holds firm, matching her gaze with a glare of his own. “The Old Religion—” Morgana starts. “And what would you know about that? You’ve spoken with the druids, what, twice? And now you’re suddenly an expert?” “And what would you know about it,” Morgana hisses, leaning in. “You haven’t even been once —” “Enough!” Gwen exclaims, holding her hands up between them. “Stop it. Both of you. The druids aren’t interested in helping with whatever Alvarr’s plan is, and it’s far too dangerous for us to try to get into the vaults on our own. Either we tell Arthur that there’s a risk that someone will try to steal something from the vaults or we come up with a new plan.” She gives them both a stern look. Merlin gulps. “Alright?” Merlin nods jerkily and Morgana looks away, muttering her assent. Gwen crosses her arms and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Good.” She uncrosses her arms and lets them drop by her sides. “Now, what do we need to do?” “Well,” Merlin starts cautiously, looking at Morgana as he does. She’s still looking at the ground, her arms folded protectively over her chest. Merlin takes a deep breath and continues, “We don’t even know if Alvarr will still try without the druids’ help. I think the first think to do is work out what he’s up to, get more information.” “And?” Gwen prompts. “How do we do that?” “Well—” Merlin licks his lips. He catches Morgana’s eyes, almost smiling. “I do have one idea.” Morgana uncrosses her arms slowly and looks up at him, frowning. “What?” “Scrying.” Morgana inhales, leaning back barely. “I haven’t tried yet, the druids say I should focus on controlling my dreams first.” “You can still do it though,” Merlin takes a half step forward, newly enthused, his annoyance all but forgotten. “You’re a seer, and you said they’ve talked to you about different methods.” A smile spreads it way across Morgana’s face, tugging at one corner before taking hold of the rest of her mouth. “Alright. Yes, let’s try.” She takes a deep breath and straightens up. “We’ll need to get supplies together— a mirror, and a basin of water.” Gwen nods. “Good, we can get those no problem.” “And it wouldn’t hurt to have some herbs that help with focusing things. And some kind of crystal — just a normal kind I mean, if Gaius has it.” Morgana looks at Merlin. “If I give you a list could you get everything together?” “Yeah, just tell me what you need.” Morgana smiles again and takes a deep breath in. She’s more energized, lit up in a way Merlin recognizes instantly because it looks exactly like how he feels when he gets the chance to really use in his magic. Morgana may have some skill at spells, but it’s not innate in the same way it is to Merlin, not like this is. She’s in her element here in a way she’s never been with spell craft. Merlin smiles in spite of himself. “When are we doing this?” he asks. “Tomorrow,” Morgana says. “I’ll make sure Mordred gets out of the castle safely tonight, you two work on getting what we need. We’ll meet in the empty guest room in the third floor western corridor.” “Alright.” Gwen nods, a look of determination on her face. Merlin feels a swell of appreciation for her and how quickly she’s taken all of this in stride. He gives her a warm smile, then looks to Morgana. “It’s a plan.” The list Morgana gives him is mostly easy enough to acquire. Gaius’s store of herbs is well stocked enough to accommodate Merlin taking portions of all the ones he needs, and the two that he doesn’t have both grow close enough to the castle that it won’t take him more than half an hour to collect them and get back to the castle. He asks Gaius about crystals as casually as he can. Which is to say that he spends about ten minutes coming up with a good story for how he was looking for a scroll for Arthur in the library and happened to come across another that mentioned different rock formations and did Gaius have any crystals he could look at? Only for Gaius to cut off his rambling recitation of it about ten seconds in and ask what he was after. Gaius just sighs when Merlin tells him, and disappears up into the balcony for a few minutes, coming back with a soft cloth bag that clinks slightly as he hands it over. “That’s got a couple different sorts. Amethyst, quartz, selenite… There might be some agate left, but it’s been a while since I checked. I used to use them for making totems, but there’s nothing innately magical about them. Now,” he raises one eyebrow at Merlin, folding his hands in front of him, “are you going to tell me what you want them for?” “Oh, uh, you know…” Merlin glances up from the bag with a shrug. “I’ll get these back to you as soon as I’m done with them, alright?” Gaius’s eyebrow lifts a little higher, but he does’t say anything. Instead he sighs, turning towards his work bench. “Just be careful, will you?” “Of course,” Merlin assures him, tucking the bag into his pocket and heading towards the door. “I’ve got to go run an errand for Arthur, alright? I’ll see you later.” The lower town is busy in the same way it always in the late afternoons, and Merlin in able to slip through the crowds without anyone taking notice of him. The crowds thins out as he gets closer the gates, but Merlin doesn’t bother distracting the guards. He goes out for herbs often enough and he’ll be back soon enough with clear evidence of what he’s been doing that he’s not worried about what they’ll think. He finds patches of the last two herbs on Morgana’s list quickly enough, and grabs a couple handfuls of each before turning around to trek back across the open field between the castle and the woods. The sun is shining from behind Camelot towards him as he walks, and Merlin squints a bit as he looks at the way in front of him. It’s a gorgeous day. It’s gorgeous in a way that feels at odds with everything that’s been swirling in Merlin’s head the past couple weeks, and especially everything in the past few days. It feels like a glorious late summer afternoon that could stretch on for ages without anything pressing or urgent to do. The kind of day he’d spend with Will, down by the river that flowed by Ealdor, or that he and Gwen would take advantage of, skive off their duties and go for a walk in the woods. Or even a day when he’d watch Arthur training, clapping when he does well and joking with him when he comes for a new weapon or needs his armour adjusted. It doesn’t feel like a day when anything terrible would happen, but then again neither did the day he arrived in Camelot. Merlin drops his eyes to avoid the sun’s glare. Instead, he watches his boots flattening the bright grass as he walks. The grass gives way to the dirt road, which in turn gives way to cobblestone when he reaches the gates The bright warmth of the sun on his hair and shoulders is replaced by intermittent cool shadows from the buildings of Camelot. Merlin keeps his head down anyway, in thought more than anything else, and counts on the crowds to part for him. Rounding the last corner before the courtyard, he nearly crashes into Arthur. “Merlin.” Arthur seems amused rather than put out. “There you are.” “Arthur. What are you doing here?” “Well, you disappeared as soon as we got back to Camelot and no one’s seen Morgana since last night, I thought it might be a good idea to find where exactly you’d both disappeared to.” “Morgana’s in her room.” Merlin realizes what he’s said and adds quickly, “I mean, that’s where I’d look, if I were you. And that’s where Gwen said she was when I talked to her earlier, so there’s no reason to think she’d be with me.” “Yes, I found that out quite easily by knocking on her door,” Arthur tells him. “But strangely enough no one could tell me where my manservant had gone off to aside that he’d been seen heading toward the lower time.” He cocks his head to one side, leaving the question implied. “I was collecting herbs for Gaius. See?” Merlin lifts up his hand. “Herbs.” Arthur nods. “I see that.” There’s a beat of silence. Merlin shifts his weight awkwardly, unsure of what Arthur wants. “Did you need something, sire?” “There have been rumours…” Arthur says slowly. “About a druid in the lower town. You haven’t heard anything about that have you?” “No,” Merlin answers, his blood going cold. “Why?” “No reason.” Arthur turns back towards the palace. “Come on, I need your help getting ready for dinner.” Merlin could swear his heartbeat is loud enough for Arthur to hear as he follows him back into the palace. With the excuse of dropping the herbs off for Gaius, he stops off in his own chambers and takes several long slowly breaths, steadying himself before going to Arthur’s rooms. By the time he’s finished dressing him and they get to the dining hall, a good part of Merlin’s fear has been supplanted by annoyance at Morgana. She’s not at dinner, and Merlin can only hope she and Gwen are using this chance to get Mordred safely out of the city, but really, what was she thinking letting him stay this long to begin with. Arthur notices Merlin’s mood, or seems to at least, even if he doesn’t say anything. He just gives Merlin a questioning look as he refills his goblet. “You wouldn’t know why Morgana’s been in her room all day, would you?” he asks Merlin once they’re back in Arthur’s chambers. “Gwen was a little scarce on details.” “What?” Merlin looks up from the wardrobe. “Oh. It’s, uh, it’s fine.” He takes out Arthur’s night shirt and closes the wardrobe door. “Nothing to be worried about.” “Right…” Arthur folds the doublet he was wearing over the back of a chair and looks at Merlin. “You’d tell if it were, wouldn’t you? Not—” he pauses, “I wouldn’t need the details , just… if there was anything that I should know about, so I could do something…” “Yeah of course,” Merlin assures him. “It’s fine really, I think she just think she needed a day for herself.” He can’t remember when it became second nature for the first thing out of his mouth to be a lie, but it come out easily now. So smoothly that it might as well be second nature. “Good.” Arthur takes the night shirt from Merlin and disappears behind his screen. Merlin drifts over to Arthur’s desk, straightening up a bit. He glances out the window and does a double take. Two figures are moving across the middle of the courtyard, wearing long cloaks and pushing a wheelbarrow with a large barrel on it. Merlin moves around the desk, coming closer and craning his head for a better view. The figure on the right’s hood is down and in the bright moonlight it’s clearly Morgana. Going by height and build, the second figure could very easily be Gwen. Merlin groans in exasperation. “What was that?” Arthur asks from behind the screen. “What was what?” Merlin calls back. Gwen and Morgana are now struggling to lift the barrel onto a large cart loaded with them. Arthur comes out from behind the screen, the shirt he was wearing balled up in hand. “You made a noise, I don’t know.” A man emerges from the palace, walking towards the cart. Gwen notices him and says something to Morgana. They move hurriedly, shoving the barrel up onto the cart. “What is it?” Arthur walks toward Merlin. “Nothing.” Merlin spins around, blocking as much of the window as he can with his body. Arthur rolls his eyes and pushed past him. After looking out he sighs. “You really know how to make everything seem suspicious don’t you.” Merlin looks back out the window. Morgana and Gwen are nowhere in sight. The man has mounted the cart, and it’s slowly trundling towards the gate. “It’s just some supplies for the outlying villages to the south,” Arthur says, shoving the shirt into Merlin’s hands and walking towards his bed. “Get some sleep.” “Alright,” Merlin lets out a heavy sigh as he lets the door shut behind him, collapsing against it once it has. “Are we ready to get started?” Gwen looks up front the table where she and Morgana have laid out two bowls— one of water and one of wine, next to two empty pitchers— and a midsized oval mirror. “Are you alright?” Merlin shrugs. He unslings Gaius’s old physician’s bag and drops it onto the table. “Just tired, I didn’t sleep very well.” He ommits the fact that he was kept up by concerns about what might happen if it turned out Alvarr was still trying to get into the vaults— he doesn’t need to start that conversation with Morgana again. Opening the bag, Merlin starts tossing bundles of herbs onto the table. “And I thought I heard someone following me on my way here, so I took a detour up two extra floors… Don’t worry!” he adds as Morgans looks up sharply. “I didn’t see anyone and I didn’t hear anything else after, I think I’m just nervous.” “Are you sure?” Morgana leans towards him. “If someone catches us—" “I’m sure.” Merlin takes out Gaius’s crystals, setting them each deliberately not he table so they’re lined up in a neat row and doesn’t mention what a poor job she and Gwen did being cautious the night before. “Good.” Morgana visibly relaxes and Merlin tries to remind himself that she’s probably just as scared as he is of being caught, even if her perspective on living with that fear is warped by the privileges granted to a king’s ward. Gwen looks over the table, then up and Morgana and Merlin. “Should we start then?” “Yes.” Morgana nods, he eyes scanning the items before her. “I think I’ll try the water first. That’s supposed to be the easiest.” She lowers herself into a chair and pulls the bowl towards her. “Gwen — could you pull the curtains closed if you don’t mind?” Gwen starts to move to do that, when there’s a faint knock at the door. They all freeze, staring at it. It starts to creak inward and Gwen reacts immediately, grabbing one of the pitchers from the table as surging forward. She swings it, hard, and in the second before it connects with the person coming through the door Merlin realizes that it’s Arthur. The pitcher strikes him squarely across the top of his head and he crumples forward onto the the floor. Gwen drops the pitcher in shock, her hands flying to her mouth. “Gwen!” Merlin stares at her, at a loss for words. “Wh— I— I mean, what was that?” “I’m sorry!” Gwen says, hands still covering her mouth while she stares at Arthur on the floor. “I panicked, I didn’t even realize it was Arthur, I just wanted to stop whoever it was from realizing what you were doing, and I…” She looks up at Merlin, moving her clasped hands to just under her chin. “Do you think he’ll be alright?” “He’ll be fine, Gwen,” Morgana assures her. “I don’t know, I think I hit him too hard….” She looks back down at Arthur’s sprawled form. in a whisper she asks. “What are we going to do?” “We could wipe his memory?” Merlin suggests. Morgana’s eyes light up. “Is there actually a spell that can do that?” “We’re not wiping Arthur’s memory!” Gwen’s voice is high, almost shrill. Merlin holds up his hands defensively. “I wasn’t serious!” Morgana sniffs. “Pity.” On the floor, Arthur makes a groaning sound. They all jump, their heads whipping in his direction. “Alright, let’s just… stay calm,” Merlin says, deeply aware of how un-calm his own voice sounds. “Morgana, you clear up the mirror and the amethyst and all of that, Gwen—” Merlin’s cut off by another groan from Arthur. He stirs, then sits up laboriously, rubbing his head where Gwen hit him. His eyes find Merlin first. “What on Earth made you do that?” “It wasn’t me!” Merlin says automatically. “I don’t care who it was,” Arthur rolls his eyes as he pushes himself to his feet, anger mounting in his voice. “I just want to know why it happened!” “Look, Arthur, if you don’t want to be knocked out you should’t go around opening random doors.” “I’m the prince ,” Arthur says, staring at Merlin like he’s lost his mind, “I’m perfectly within my rights to go wherever I want. And besides, I was actually trying to help you.” Merlin freezes. “Help us with what?” “With… this,” Arthur waves his hand vaguely towards where Morgana is standing in front of the worst of the scrying supplies. “With whatever magic nonsense that’s got you running around half of last nigh midnight and the guards telling me there are rumours of a druid in the city.” Merlin’s brain stops. He’s fairly certain he’s staring at Arthur for approximately a thousand years before he finally manages to splutter out. “Magic? I— No, why— It’s, I mean, we’re— Why would you think that it’s magic?” Arthur rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Because, Merlin , why else would my secretly magic servant and the king’s secretly magic ward be whispering in hallways and holding poorly-concealed clandestine meetings?” “You knew ?” “Yes you clotpole, of course I knew .” “That’s my word!” "I can’t believe that’s what you’re choosing to focus on right now!” They’re shouting at each other by now, Gwen and Morgana’s eyes bouncing between them like spectators at a tournament. “Maybe—” Gwen starts, but Morgana shushes her, putting a hand on her arm. “No, don’t, I want to see where this goes.” “How— I mean—” Merlin splutters. “ You knew ?” he ends up repeating indignantly. “Yes, I did, I thought I’d made that perfectly clear ages ago, but apparently you’re a lot denser than I gave you credit for!” “Made it—” Merlin fully turns around and walks away from Arthur before spinning back to face him and coming closer. “I knew it. I knew you’d figured something out. I told Gaius and Morgana and Gwen and none of them believed me. How long have you known? Since Cornelius Sigan? Hm? Since Ealdor? Or— Oh, gods… Have you known since I got here? Was it stopping Lady Helen? Or the Afanc?” “What— ” Arthur starts. “How often do you use magic in front of me? Wait,” he waves it off. “That’s not important. I figured it out shortly before I asked you to help Morgana. I saw you use a spell to light my fire.” “When?” “About a month and a half ago. Just after the last tournament. The one with, er,” he looks over at Morgana, “Sir William.” “Why didn’t you turn me in?” “Do you want me to have turned you in?” “No,” Merlin answers. “But I always thought that if you knew I had magic you’d have me hanged.” Arthur considers this, averting his gaze from Merlin. “I don’t know what I would have done. Maybe, a year ago— or even a few months— I’d have done something different, but…” he looks up at Merlin again, “I see you every day, Merlin, I know you… You may be the worst servant in the world, Merlin, but you’re not evil. Besides,” he adds, looking somewhat uncomfortable with his own honesty, “a sorcerer saved my life, and died to do it. I didn’t forget that.” “Will wasn’t a sorcerer.” Merlin’s not sure why this is what he answers with, why of all the things that have come out of Arthur’s mouth in the last few minutes the fact that he’s still in the dark about Will is what Merlin most needs to address, but whatever the reason is, Merlin suddenly very badly needs Arthur to know the truth. “He— He lied. To protect me, to make sure that I could stay by your side.” Arthur takes this information in, nodding slowly. “Well. Thank you, then.” Merlin smiles in spite of himself. “You might want to hold off on thanking me until you hear about all the other times, if you thank me after each one we’ll be here all day.” Arthur frowns, pulling his head back. “I… definitely want an explanation of that, but I think it might have to wait until we’ve got less to worry about.” “That’s a good idea,” Merlin confirms, his smile widening. He feels like a weight has lifted off his chest, like a tension constantly coiled up inside him has finally been released and he’s allowed to breath properly since for the first time since he set foot in Camelot. “So you’re really not going to turn us in,” he asks Arthur, feeling a little giddy. “No. I’m not. I have no intentions of seeing anyone executed.” Morgana takes a step forward, bringing her hands together. “Well. Now that this is all out of the way, do you think we could get back to more pressing matters?” Arthur frowns. “Morgana… You’re not going to tell me you knew I’d figured you out?” “No of course not,” Morgana says breezily, “I was sure you thought that Merlin and I were conducting a romantic liaison.” “Morgana,” Arthur blinks slowly, “ why would I think that? I’ve never seen you be attracted to a man in your life!” “Nor will you,” Morgana replied smoothy. “But I could hardly expect you to have realized that, could I?” “When I asked if you fancied Lord Albans’ son you laughed in my face and told me that you couldn’t begin to imagine finding him appealing even if I clearly did, I think I got the message.” “Alright!” Gwen moves forward, preempting Morgana’s response. “This has been great, and Arthur I am genuinely very glad that you don’t intend to throw us all in the dungeons or worse, but Morgana brings up a very good point. There’ll be plenty of time to talk about all this after we’ve taken care of figuring out what Alvarr’s up to?” Arthur nods, immediately swiping into knight mode. “Alright, fill me in, what are you trying to do?” “Someone's going to try and break into the vaults,” Gwen tells him. “Or at least they might , we want to try and get there first.” “How’d you find out about this?” Gwen hesitates, looking to Morgana. “From a source that shall remain anonymous.” Morgana says. Arthur sighs. “ Morgana —” Merlin steps forward, “Morgana, if we're trusting him, then we’re trusting him with all of it.” Morgana sighs. “Fine. You remember the druid boy?” The explanation is quick. They don't linger on the finer points, just give Arthur the facts. When they’re done, Arthur pulls one hand down his face, rubbing his jaw. “Alright. So this... scrying, this is supposed to tell you what Alvarr and his people are doing?” “That's right.” Morgana nods. “Alright.” Arthur starts pacing, running his thumb over the ring on his left index finger as he does. "Alright," he repeats after a moment, “And it will be accurate?” “If we can make sure that it works, yeah.” Merlin watches Arthur nod along as he walks back and forth. “We should be able to see what he’s doing at this moment, and possibly a glimpse into the future. Although—” his eyes dart to Morgana and he chooses his words carefully. “Er, no one can know for certain what's ahead. It’s always possible for the future seen with magic to be... inaccurate.” They're all silent while Arthur paces, his brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he stops, pivoting to look at them. “Right,” he says, one arm crossed over his chest, the other hand curled under his chin. His thumb is still rubbing over the ring, and Merlin realizes that he’s much more nervous than he’s letting on. “Here’s what we're going to do. Get this whole... thing , set up and find out as much as you can. In the meantime, I'll tell the guards to be on the look out for Alvarr— or, well. A man of the closest description I can give them within reason. What I won’t do,” he scans along the three of them, holding their eyes, “is post any extra guards in the vaults or tell anyone else what Alvarr might be after.” “Why?” Morgana asks. “If he's still planning on heading here then wouldn't it make more sense that as many people as possible know about it?” “Not necessarily, if Arthur gives them too much information then they’ll have questions about how he knows, or it’ll get back to Uther.” She looks at Arthur. “That's why isn’t it?” “Partially.” Arthur nods. Gwen frowns. “But not entirely?” Morgana’s expression matches Gwen's as her eyes search Arthur’s face. “Then why is it?" “Because,” Arthur unfolds his arms, putting his hands on his hips, “if Alvarr really is still planning on coming to Camelot we have to assume that he'll be able to make it past the guards, and if that’s the case then we're going to want the way clear.” “But why?” Gwen asks, still looking confused. Merlin answers for him. “We’re going to break into the vaults.” The corridors that lead to the vaults are dark. Merlin stays close behind Arthur and hopes that whatever he’s done to get rid of the guards worked. Morgana and Gwen walk close behind him, silently peeling off to stay at the door while he and Arthur continue into the vaults proper. The key makes a grinding sound in the lock as Arthur turns it, and the heavy door creaks on its hinges, making Merlin wince. Arthur pauses, waiting for a moment before he pushes the door the rest of the way and keeps moving. It hadn’t taken long, considering all the trouble they went through on account of it, for Morgana to successfully find Alvarr and his people through scrying and report that they were, in fact, still planning to break into the vaults. It still took Morgana a few tries, first in the water, then the wine, before she finally successfully managed it with the mirror. Merlin knew the moment it happened, her eyes glowed a bright gold and stayed that way as she stared intently into the glass. Arthur and Gwen both tensed slightly, and Arthur actually pulled back in his seat when it happened. He caught himself, his eyes shooting to Merlin as he let out a slow breath and leant slightly forward again. Merlin had resolutely kept his focus on Morgana, pretending he didn’t notice. Part of him is annoyed— Arthur’s had weeks to get used to the idea of magic, he should have at least made it far enough to pretend he isn’t terrified of them. Gwen’s had far less time and she’s managing to do more than he is, even if Merlin can tell she’s still adjusting to being so near magic. Another part, one that’s far quieter but just as insistent, is reminding him that Arthur’s spent over two decades being fed Uther’s hatred. It’ll probably take time, and more than a few gentle corrections (and if need be not so gentle ones) before he’s fully accustomed to being in the presence of sorcery. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Arthur is going to get used to sorcery. Because Arthur knows . He has known for weeks, he found out from something Merlin can’t even remember and didn’t turn him in. By all rights Merlin should be dead. He’ll have to talk to Arthur. At some point— after they’ve sorted out everything with the vault and Alvarr and it’s all over… He and Arthur will have to talk. Merlin almost sighs audibly, anticipating it. He can’t even begin to think about that inevitability, let alone what he’s going to say, so he pushes all of it— Arthur knowing, not being dead, their inevitable need to talk— to the back of his mind. He can deal with that later. Merlin shakes himself, keeping his attention glued to the dark fabric of Arthur’s jacket as he follows him deeper into the vaults. There’s no clear organization system. At least, none that Merlin can see in the dim light of the torch that he’s carrying (that Arthur watched him light with magic, and wow is he really trying not to unpack the look on Arthur’s face when that happened). Arthur’s moving through the crypt seemingly undirected, looking over this or that, and Merlin realizes it’s going to take them forever at this rate. He stands still and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “ Merlin ,” Arthur hisses in front of him, “what do you think your doing?” Merlin ignores him. He can feel a kind of static energy in the air, like the air before a lightning strike, making the hair on his arms stand up slightly. He takes another breath, frowning slightly and trying to see if he can— yes. Merlin opens his eyes and looks at Arthur. “We need to go that way,” he tells him, pointing. “What?” “You heard me,” Merlin walks passes him, moving purposefully. Arthur has to run a bit to catch up with him. “Merlin, are you going to—” They round a corner and Arthur stops like he’s just hit a wall. On a small pedestal in front of them is a cloudy white crystal, cradled in a dull cushion. It’s shining unnaturally brightly in the faint light of the torch and Merlin can’t take his eyes off it. It seems like there’s something moving on the surface. A reflection of the torch flames, maybe. Holding his breath, Merlin takes a few steps closer. The moving shapes solidify, becoming a flashing sequence of images, he sees Morgana, Mordred, the two of them meeting in the woods. Then a man and a he doesn’t recognize, both holding swords… Morgana’s eyes flashing gold, Gwen and Arthur lying on the hallway floor, Morgana holding out the crystal to the man, Morgause cradling Morgana’s crumpled body in the middle of the throne room, flames, Kilgharrah swooping over the castle, flames, flames, flames— “Merlin!” Something hard collides with the back of his shoulder and he’s knocked sideways, breaking him out of his trance. Arthur his staring at him, tensed, and Merlin shakes himself. “Come on,” Arthur urges him. “Grab that and let’s get out of here.” It’s only then that Merlin hears the alarm bells. “What’s happening?” “I don’t know ,” Arthur says, teeth clenched, “but since we don’t have any prisoners at the moments, presumably someone’s made it past the guards, so we need to go. Now .” Merlin snatches the crystal off the cushion and turns, running with Arthur towards the exit. They’ve almost made it to the door when they’re both knocked forward onto their faces, winding Merlin and sending the crystal flying into the shadows beyond the door. Someone pulls him roughly to his feet, and Merlin feels a blade at his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin can see Arthur, arms pinned behind him. “Well.” He hears from behind him, and a man emerges from the shadows, his teeth bared in a sinister grin. “It seems like we were expected.” “Alvarr, I assume?” Merlin asks, trying to keep his tone measured. The man quirks an eyebrow. “Very expected, it seems.” “Where are our friends?” Merlin asks. “Merlin,” Arthur mutters, warning. Alvarr smirks. “Enmyria,” he calls out. A woman— Merlin realizes that she was the one in he saw in the crystal— comes into view with another man, leading Gwen and Morgana before her. At the edge of the light fromt he torch, Morgana stumbles, falling to her hands and knees and staying there for a moment before the man hauls her roughly up again. “I’m so sorry,” Gwen starts as soon as she sees them, “we were going to signal but they ambushed us and we couldn’t—” Enmyria shoves her. “Quiet.” She looks to Alvarr. “What do you want us to do with them?” Alvarr looks over the four of them, considering. Morgana’s eyes search out Merlin’s in the semi-darkness, and she widens them, trying to signal something to him. Merlin frowns at her. “Unless I’m mistaken we’ve got two very important people in our welcoming party. Your highness,” he smiles, inclining his head just barely to Arthur. Morgana widens her eyes again and flicks them down, toward where her hands are bound in front of her. Merlin follows her gaze and realizes there’s a glint of something between her fingers, mostly obscured by her long sleeves. Alvarr turns around slowly to where Morgana and Gwen are standing, smile widening. “And the Lady Morgana.” Morgana jumps, and whips her head up to look at him. “You know… a little bird tells me that you’d have good reason to be sympathetic to our cause.” “A little bird?” Morgana arches one eyebrow, tone incredulous, mocking even. “How mysterious.” Alvarr snorts, unaffected he takes a step closer to her. “Don’t try to tell me you have no reason to disagree with Uther’s rule. Nothing in the laws that you would change?” “Morgana,” Merlin starts, “Don’t lis—” the man holding him tugs roughly on his hair and presses the blade a little harder against the flesh of Merlin’s neck. “Shut up,” he hisses. His breath is hot against Merlin’s ear. Morgana swallows and holds her head up higher. “And what if there were? What use would it be to you?” Alvarr takes another step forward. “I could use someone like you. Someone with… influence. In the palace, with Uther.” Morgana’s hand twitches and Merlin feels his blood freeze. The image of Morgana passing the crystal flashes in front of his eyes. “All you have to do,” Alvarr’s smile is all teeth, glinting softly in the torch’s light, “is help me find what I’m looking for.” “Alright.” Morgana nods, taking a step forward. “Let me go and I’ll get it to you.” “No!” Merlin cries, surging forward. “It’s for the best Merlin.” Morgana says as the man holding her roughly cuts the rope binding her wrists. “Morgana,” Gwen starts, looking dismayed, “you can’t honestly—” Enmyria shoves her again, cutting her off. “It’s the right thing to do, Gwen,” Morgana tells her. She takes another step towards Alvarr, holding out her hand, showing him the crystal. His eyes go wide. “You already have—” In the next second, Morgana’s kneed him— hard— in the solar plexus and twisted around, pulling the sword from the belt of the man holding her and bringing the hilt down on Alvarr’s head. Beside Merlin, Arthur uses the moment of confusion to kick backward at the man holding him. He swings a punch across his face, so he drops his sword, then grabs it off the ground, levelling it at the bandit holding Merlin. “Release him.” The sword at Merlin’s throat clatters to the ground. Meanwhile, Morgana has tossed the sword she took to Gwen, whose fighting Enmyria with her hands still bound. Morgana takes the sword from Alvarr’s unconscious body, knocking out the man who had been holding her the same way she did Alvarr. Gwen disarms Enmyria in a sweeping, circular strike, and holds the blade out to her throat, adjusting her hands on the hilt. “What now?” She asks, looking to Arthur, his own sword still held to the side of the other bandit’s throat. Merlin smiles, stepping forward and extending his hands. “Let me.” A second later, Enmyria and the two conscious bandits fly backward, crashing into the walls and crumpling to the ground. Gwen, Morgana, and Arthur all stare at him for a moment, their faces bearing varying degrees of shock and interest. Morgana breaks the silence. “Can you teach me that spell?” “Later maybe. I—” Merlin breaks off at the sound of approaching footsteps. They all look at each other, eyes wide. “Run.” Arthur says immediately. “All of you. I’ll come up with something to tell them. Here.” He moves over to Gwen, cutting the ropes still holding her wrists. “Now go. Quickly.” He doesn’t need to tell them again. “I don’t understand it.” Merlin was seated across the table from Gaius, his half eaten stew slowly cooling in the bowl in front of him. He poked at the chunks of meat and vegetable and then let the spoon drop, sitting up straighter as he worked through what he was trying to say. “I saw it, Morgana gave the crystal to Alvarr, he had it. If the crystal really is that powerful why would it have been wrong?” “I don’t know.” Gaius paused in eating his own stew, resting his hands on the table in front of him and interlacing his fingers. “I can’t say that I know enough about the crystal, or even Seeing in general to say why what you saw would now have come to pass. Perhaps what it shows is not what will happen but merely what might. Maybe something you did prevented it.” Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t know…” He pokes at his stew again, thinking. “Where is the crystal now?” Gaius asks. “Morgana still has it,” Merlin responds. “We’ve agreed to give it to the druids, though, I’m going tomorrow. Even if they don’t want it, they’ll have some idea what to do with it and I trust them to take care of it more than I do anyone else. It certainly shouldn’t still be in the vaults of Camelot.” “Hmm,” Gaius hums, looking down at his stew again. Merlin’s not sure whether to take that as an agreement or just an acknowledgement of what he’s said. “Come on, eat your dinner before it gets cold,” Gaius says after a moment. “There’s plenty of time to think it over later.” Merlin knocks on Morgana’s door the next morning. She opens it and lets him in, crossing to her vanity and taking the crystal out of the drawer without question. “Here,” she says, holding it out to him. He takes it, careful not to look directly at the smooth surface. “Thanks,” Merlin forces a small smile. “Have you looked in it?” Morgana shakes her head. “No. It tried, but it was just murky. I couldn’t see anything more than shadows.” Merlin nods, turning the crystal over in his hand. He looks up at Morgana. “Can I… ask you something?” “What is it?” “Did you think about doing it? About giving” Morgana looks surprised at the question. “No. How could I have?” “I wouldn’t blame you. I don’t think he would have actually followed through on any of what he was saying, or even if he did it probably wouldn’t be in any way that was actually fair and effective but—” Merlin stops himself. He takes a deep breath. “But I can see being tempted by what he offered.” Morgana hesitates, her eyes flick away from Merlin’s face and one hand comes up to hold her other arm. “For a moment.” Her voice is barely even a whisper and Merlin feels the ghost of another world pass over him. A world where she was more angry, or where he was more scared, where any number of small things went differently and she had actually made the choice to turn her back on them. She looks up at him again, her eyes wide and apologetic. “I— Merlin, I never would have done it! You, and Gwen, and even Arthur… I never would have betrayed you like that, you have to know that.” “I do!” Merlin reassures her. The what if’s haven’t happened. It won’t do to dwell on them. “Honestly, Morgana, I know. I just…” He looks down, rubbing his thumb over the hard edge of the crystal in his hand. “I wanted to ask, that’s all.” Morgana smiles at him. “Of course. I’m glad you’re my friend, Merlin.” Merlin smiles back. “I am too.” There’s one more thing he has to do. It’s late when Merlin gets back to Camelot from the delivering the crystal. Everyone will have finished their dinner and return to their chambers. The halls are quiet and filled with the warm light of torches as Merlin walks along them, letting his feet carry him along the familiar route to Arthur’s chambers. He pulls up short in front of Arthur’s door. It was easy to face Arthur in the midst of a crisis, when they both had to keep moving, to accomplish the plan, avert disaster. Now that it’s over, in the quiet day to day moments that are going to follow, the simple, everyday moments that lie ahead, Merlin doesn’t know how he’s supposed to manage it. He’s not sure how long he stands there before he finally manages to raise his hand to knock. Arthur opens the door, looking surprised when he sees who it is. “Merlin.” “Sire.” Merlin nods. Arthur realizes he’s blocking the entrance and takes a step back, opening the door wider as he does. Merlin follows him inside, but stays near the door, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. “Your trip went well?” Merlin nods. “Yes. The druids are going to look after the crystal. Mordred was very interested in hearing the whole story.” “Good. Alvarr and his people are set to be tried in the morning. I’ll do my best to see they don’t get more than exiled.” “I’m glad.” They’re both quiet. Arthur shuffles some papers on his desk, moving them into a pile. Merlin stays where he is, looking down at his shoes. “Oh for— Would you stop that?” Merlin looks up at Arthur, startled. “Sire?” “ That .” Arthur says, waving his hand at Merlin. “You’re never this quiet unless something’s wrong so out with it.” Merlin takes a step forward, slowly, carefully. “We need to talk.” Arthur lets out a slow breath. “Yes. I suppose we do.” He moves around his desk and crosses the room to his table. He picks up a pitcher and two goblets from the table, filling them each about halfway before setting them deliberately back on the table. He pulls out a chair and sits, nodding to Merlin. “Come on.” Merlin moves forward slowly, pulling out his own chair and sitting down. Arthur picks up his goblet and holds it out to Merlin for a toast. Merlin blinks, then picks up his own cup, bringing it up to meet Arthur’s. “So.” Arthur says on a sigh, putting down his goblet in front of him. “You have magic.” Merlin almost laughs. “I have magic,” he repeats. Arthur nods. “And you use it to light fires, and… knock out bandits, and defend your hometown, and— based on what you said when you learned I knew— I’m guessing a number of other things?” “Er, yes.” Merlin’s lip twitch and he can feel a smile spreading over his face in spite of himself. “I’d say there’s a lot of other things I use it for. Mostly saving your life.” “Hm.” Arthur lifts his cup again, taking a sip. “Well, I suppose there are worse things to do with it.” Merlin laughs at that, letting the relief and anxiety bubble out of him. Sobering, he asks, “What do you want to know?” “Well…” Arthur takes a deep breath, “If I’m being honest, I’d say everything. But I think the better answer is whatever you want to tell me.” Merlin smiles, reaching for the pitcher. “In that case, I guess I should start at the beginning.” Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his heart had dropped, shattered into pieces across the floor, a sudden rigid coldness taking over his entire body. Notes See the end of the work for notes He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his heart had dropped, shattered into pieces across the floor, a sudden rigid coldness taking over his entire body. Merlin, too, was frozen in place, his armor still floating in the air dropping all at once, the sudden loud noise shattering the quiet. Merlin’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, which broke his heart even more. Merlin took a step towards him, arm reaching out across the gap, and he flinched back unconsciously, causing Merlin’s face to fall. “Sire,” Merlin starts, head bowed, not looking him in the eyes. “Don’t,” Arthur whispers back, but Merlin ignores him, continuing. “I’ve always been yours Arthur, magic, body, and soul, whatever you choose to do with me, I won't contest it,” Merlin continues, now kneeling in front of Arthur, neck arched in an act of submission or an act of stubbornness, Arthur is not sure. Arthur inhales sharply at Merlin’s words, throat dry, unable to come up with a response, his heart singing at Merlin’s words of devotion, but his mind heavy with betrayal. At Arthur’s silence, Merlin speaks more, eyes blurry, “Arthur, Sire, if you decide that I should be executed for my crimes, then please do it here and now, do not make a scene out of me, I do not wish to scar our friends more than needed,” tears now running freely down Merlin’s face, “I’d rather die here, by your hand, please, at least grant me this sire,” Merlin says with finality, his voice rough. Merlin’s tears break Arthur out of his trance, and he falls to the ground, reaching for Merlin, who flinches in turn. Nevertheless, Arthur grabs for Merlin, pulling him into his arms, holding him frantically. “Never Merlin, never, I would never kill you, I am hurt that you have hidden this from me, but I understand, I swear, I would never, I will never hurt you, I promise,” Arthur blurts out, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Merlin clings to Arthur, head tucked in between his neck and shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. “Don’t, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Merlin sobs out, words broken. At that, Arthur’s tears fall free, “I swear to you, Merlin, on everything I hold dear, I will never hurt you, not if I can help it,” he says. Minutes or hours pass, with them kneeling there, crying, holding each other, wrapped in their own little world. When it seems that Merlin has run out of tears, he leans back to look at Arthur, shocked to see tears streaming down his face too. Without thinking, Merlin reaches out and wipes away the tears on Arthur's face, cupping his cheek for a moment. Blue eyes meet, holding each other’s gaze for what seems like a century. They both lean forward, foreheads meeting, eyes closed, breathing together. “No more secrets?” Arthur proposes, breaking the silence, eyes still closed. “Well,” Merlin hums back. Arthur leans back, blinking open his eyes, slightly annoyed. “There may be one or two more secrets,” Merlin continues, smirk wide, eyes full of mischief. “Oh really, like what?” Arthur retorts, standing back up. Merlin follows him, taking a step towards Arthur, smirk softening. He raises his hand once more, cupping Arthur's cheek, mirroring their position from earlier, and leans in. He kisses Arthur softly, Arthur standing frozen for a second, before flying into action, returning the kiss. “Like that,” Merlin murmurs, leaning back to catch his breath. “If all your secrets feel like that, I don’t mind,” Arthur replies, trying and failing to keep the blush off his face. Merlin giggling, and leans back in for more, but can’t stop giggling. Arthur huffs indigently, his wide smile bright on his face. “Really, Merlin?” Arthur drawls, arms crossed around his chest. “Yes really, Clotpole” Merlin replies, flush high in his cheeks, eyes bright with mirth. Arthur grabs Merlin by the arm, pulling him in abruptly, and crashes their lips together. Merlin quickly tries to adjust himself, so he doesn’t fall, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck, and Arthur, in turn, wraps his arms around Merlin's waist. “I love you,” Arthur whispers into the air between them when they break apart for breath. “I love you, too” Merlin whispers back. [Much much later, when they are both lying in bed, Merlin will regale Arthur with all the tales of their expeditions, but from his point of view. And Arthur will listen attentively, waiting for Merlin to finish, before hitting him upside the head. “For putting himself in more danger than needed be, I could have helped you if you had told me earlier Merlin.” He follows it up by kissing Merlin senseless, an earnest “Thank you” whispered into his ear.] End Notes I know merlin was a bit OOC, but I still liked this story and didn't wanna change it. part (?) out of (?) of going through my personal archive haha Anyways, Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! kudos/comments are much appreciated. (i crave validation) Love Sammy<3 Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur decides to start being nice to Merlin. Merlin is very suspicious. Notes Written for an anonymous prompt on tumblr for a story where Arthur gets jealous of a visiting lord flirting with Merlin. Arthur is sparring with Percival. The match has gone on for only a few minutes before Arthur sees an opening. Arthur twists his sword just right, and Percival’s sword flies out of his hands. Before Percival can recover, Arthur sweeps his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. There’s scattered clapping from around the training grounds - it really was a spectacular defeat, Arthur thinks. He turns to make sure Merlin saw it. Merlin is standing by the training yard fence, but he’s paying absolutely no attention to Arthur. Instead, he’s chatting with one of the visiting lords from Essetir. Arthur clears his throat and glares pointedly at Gwaine and Lancelot. They’re clearly not doing their job, as they’re supposed to be on Merlin duty - making sure Merlin doesn’t get himself into any trouble with the visiting knights and lords who are here for the tournament that’s to start tomorrow. (Merlin's aggravated enough lords that Arthur has to take precautions, before Merlin starts yet another diplomatic incident, or gets himself hurt.) Lancelot takes his meaning and turns to look at Merlin, but he doesn’t make any move to interfere. “That’s just Lord Nathaniel,” Lancelot says, as if this should be reassuring. “He has an excellent reputation as a kind and honourable man.” “Relax, Princess,” Gwaine adds. “No need to get upset - unless you’re worried about someone else showing Merlin a good time.” Arthur glances back at Merlin and Lord Nathaniel. He watches them for a few moments, sizing him up: Merlin is speaking animatedly and his posture is relaxed, and the lord looks like he’s listening with interest. So, it doesn’t look like Arthur needs to go over there and break them up. Still, he doesn’t like it. He really doesn’t like it. “Fine,” he says to Gwaine, because nothing will get his mind off of Merlin’s apparently requited interest in a handsome lord quite as well as a fight. “If you’re not going to do your job, you can take your turn fighting me.” * Lord Nathaniel’s interest in Merlin isn’t a one-off thing. Whenever Merlin isn’t working for Arthur - and sometimes even when he’s supposed to be - they’re together, talking like old friends. Well, like more than friends - Nathaniel uses any excuse to put his hands on Merlin, and Merlin doesn’t seem to be complaining. Even worse, Nathaniel keeps giving him presents - one morning when Merlin comes to wake Arthur up, he’s wearing a new grey scarf that he keeps touching absentmindedly and smiling. Ugh. Arthur thinks he’s doing pretty good at not letting his jealousy show, but sometimes - when he’s sure neither of them are looking - he glares at Nathaniel and imagines yanking his hands off of Merlin and breaking his fingers one by one. “You really don’t need to worry,” Lancelot says one of these times, interrupting Arthur from imagining how satisfying the snapping noises would be. Arthur looks away, flushing, and Lancelot continues, “Lord Nathaniel is very respectful of Merlin, and very kind. Doting, really.” “Great,” Arthur says, in a weirdly cheerful tone that sounds to his ears like it’s coming from far away. “Thanks.” * Arthur wins the tournament, obviously. The knight he faces in the final is very good, though, and Arthur gets distracted, because in the crowd, Merlin is standing with Lord Nathaniel. The knight lands several blows in succession. Arthur stumbles and, for a second, thinks he’s going to lose. Then he somehow manages to find his footing and attack again. This time, it's his opponent who stumbles, and Arthur wins the match. After he shakes hands with his opponent, he looks for Merlin in the crowd again. He’s squeezing Lord Nathaniel’s hand. Arthur has never been this jealous in his life. * Through some discreet investigations, Arthur finds out that Lord Nathaniel is going back to Essetir in two days. Over those two days, Arthur’s terrified every time Merlin opens his mouth, but Merlin doesn’t announce that he’s leaving with him. Arthur gives a sigh of relief when Merlin’s still there the morning after Lord Nathaniel leaves. This, Arthur decides, can never happen again. Before some other eligible lord gets his eyes on Merlin and isn’t stupid enough to let him slip through his fingers, Arthur needs to make Merlin fall for him. And thanks to Lord Nathaniel, Arthur knows what Merlin likes in men. Respectful. Kind. Doting. Arthur can do that. How hard could that be? * Arthur decides to start by giving Merlin a present. His first idea is to give him a new pair of boots - Merlin’s been wearing the same pair for years, and they’re horribly ratty. On second thought, though, Lord Nathaniel’s gift of a scarf seems much more romantic than boots, and shouldn’t Arthur be trying to outdo him? But maybe noticing what Merlin would actually appreciate is actually more romantic than buying him something fancy, because it means Arthur actually thought about it. Arthur finally decides he’s already spent far too much time thinking about it, and gives him the damn boots. It looks for a moment like he chose wrong – Merlin almost immediately looks suspicious. “This doesn’t come with some horrible trick, like, ‘now you have new boots, you’re ready for our 100- mile hike,’ does it?” “Of course not,” Arthur says, and smiles into Merlin’s eyes. “I just thought you deserved something nice.” Merlin looks even more suspicious. “Are there - toads, or something, in these boots?” he demands, sticking his hand in one and searching around. “Toads? Really?” Arthur asks. “That’s the first thing you think of to put in boots?” “No, that’s the first thing I think you would think of to put in boots.” “I still think that says more about you than it does about me,” Arthur says. And then, because Merlin’s still feeling around inside the boots for some sort of trick, he adds, “ Honestly , Merlin, it’s just a pair of boots because yours keep sprouting holes.” “Oh,” Merlin says. “Well. Thank you.” Finally. “You’re welcome,” Arthur says. * Arthur keeps doting. Whenever he has the urge to insult Merlin, he compliments him instead. This turns out to be a lot of compliments. Arthur hadn’t realized quite how often he insulted Merlin before, but now he’s making an effort not to, he’s discovering it’s a lot. Maybe there’s a reason Merlin liked Lord Nathaniel better. His first few compliments go badly - once Merlin just laughs and says, “Did that sound more insulting in your head?” which - apparently Arthur really should’ve been nicer to him, since Merlin doesn’t believe Arthur would intentionally compliment him. But when Merlin reminds him of an appointment he’d forgotten, Arthur says, “Thank you, I don’t know where I’d be without you,” and Merlin looks startled and then very pleased. Later, he compliments Merlin’s eyes, and Merlin blushes and stammers complete nonsense in response. * After a few weeks, he thinks he’s getting pretty good at it, and is considering what his next move should be - is it way too early to ask Merlin on a date? - when Merlin’s reactions start becoming unfavourable again. Even simply saying “Thank you” or “I appreciate you listening” to Merlin now makes him frown. Compliments like “You’re one of the kindest people I know” make him look like he wants to cry. Arthur’s pretty sure he knows what’s happened: Merlin’s figured out that Arthur likes him, and he doesn’t return Arthur’s feelings. Arthur considers dropping the whole thing quietly and moving on, but decides he can’t do that on the slim chance that that’s not what Merlin’s thinking. After all, if Merlin’s actually sad about something else and Arthur suddenly goes back to insulting him, won’t that just make things worse? So Arthur braces himself and brings it up one night. "Er," he says, “I’ve noticed that lately you’ve been looking upset when I compliment you. I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I’ll stop, if you’re not okay with it.” “No!” Merlin says quickly. “I mean… it’s nice. It’s just… are you okay?” “Um,” Arthur says, because that makes absolutely no sense. Merlin’s starting to look agitated. “Just tell me,” he says. “Are you dying?” “ What ?” Arthur asks. “You’re being really weird!” Merlin says. “You keep giving me things and saying nice things and telling me how much I mean to you. So, are you dying?” “You think if I were dying, I’d choose to spend my last moments telling you how fantastic you are?” Arthur snarks, then realizes how mean that sounded and slams his mouth shut. Damn it. He starts trying to figure out how to word an apology, but before he can say anything, Merlin laughs with relief. “Oh, thank God ,” he says. “This is getting a little insulting,” Arthur complains. “You really think I wouldn’t be nice to you unless I were dying?” “Arthur, you’re an absolute prat,” Merlin says. Well. Okay, fine, Arthur supposes he deserves that, but he did think he was doing a little bit better the past few weeks. “I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Merlin adds, more gently, presumably in response to whatever Arthur’s face just did. “You know the reason you like me is because I’m a prat, too. That’s the reason we’re friends , Arthur.” “...because we’re both prats?” “Yes, and because we both know what we mean by it when we insult each other!” Merlin says. “For the record, I did not know what you meant by it when you said I have pretty eyes. What was that even supposed to mean ?” “It was supposed to mean that you have pretty eyes!” Arthur says, indignantly. “ Why ?” Merlin demands. “Because…” Arthur starts, and trails off. The whole thing had seemed reasonable in his head, but if he’s just now realizing that if he actually explains it out loud, he’s going to sound ridiculous. Still, Merlin does deserve an explanation. “You seemed to like Lord Nathaniel because he was nice to you. So, I thought if I wanted to have a chance, I should be nicer.” Merlin stares at him. “Gwaine said you were jealous,” he says after a moment. Arthur scoffs. “I was not jealous.” Merlin has a huge shit-eating grin growing on his face. Arthur kind of loves him for it. (Merlin was not wrong about the reason they like each other, he realizes.) “You’re really cute when you’re jealous,” Merlin teases. Arthur can feel himself blushing. He would protest again, but his brain stopped working a little when Merlin called him cute . “You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of, though,” Merlin says softly, stepping towards Arthur. “Unfortunately for Nate, there’s this one particular prat I happen to really like.” “Oh?” Arthur asks, still not really able to form words, because Merlin’s now very close to him. “Yeah,” Merlin says, and leans in to kiss him. * A short while later, Arthur murmurs, “You’re beautiful,” to Merlin, and Merlin pulls away. He’s blushing, and he doesn’t look displeased, but he says, “You don’t have to keep doing that. I told you, you have nothing to worry about.” Arthur picks his words carefully, because he doesn’t want Merlin to think this is still about jealousy, and he thinks he’s maybe been too much of a prat in the past. Merlin deserves someone who’s nice to him. “I know, and I’ll be a prat a lot of the time, probably,” Arthur says, with a bit of a grin. “But I like telling you how special you are, and making you happy.” “Oh,” Merlin says, and gives him that pleased smile that Arthur’s used to his best compliments getting. Arthur’s glad that this time, he gets to lean in and kiss it. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Whumptober 2020 no 12 - Broken bones Arthur has a jousting accident. Notes See the end of the work for notes No. 12 – Broken bones Arthur clicked his fingers at Merlin who was talking to his horse. Merlin jumped and followed him, taking the horse’s reins. Arthur held his head high as he strode back into the tilt yard. The crowd erupted again, trumpeters heralding his approach. Merlin grinned as he held the horse so Arthur could mount. “The people love their prince,” Merlin commented, shaking his head. “Of course they do,” Arthur said, pulling a face at Merlin’s annoying ability to state the obvious all the time. “Can’t think why,” Merlin continued. “They obviously don’t realise what a big prat you are.” Arthur pulled his foot from the stirrup and kicked Merlin hard in the chest, sending his tumbling to the floor. He scowled up at Arthur, his hands planted either side of him in the mud. “Proving my point there!” he shouted. Arthur just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I hope he knocks you off your horse,” Merlin grumbled, gesturing to the other end of the tilt where his opponent, Sir Leon, was mounting his own horse. “Doubt it,” Arthur scoffed. He held his hand out for his shield, but Merlin of course didn’t have it ready. Luckily a young squire had followed them from the tent at the side of the tournament ground, Arthur’s helmet and shield in his hands. “Just because you think you’re better than everyone else…” “I’m better than Leon,” Arthur said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He held it out again for his shield. The squire stepped forward importantly, his chest puffed out. He couldn’t have been more than ten. “My lord,” he said, handing the shield to Merlin and bowing low to Arthur. “See that,” Arthur pointed at the boy, whose face had flushed red now. “That is respect, Merlin. You’d do well to try it.” “Thanks, Kel, you’re doing a great job,” Merlin told the boy, taking the shield from him. The boy blushed even harder. Of course Merlin would know the boy’s name. Every bloody person in Camelot seemed to be on first name terms with his stupid servant, and Merlin was polite and kind to all of them. It was only Arthur he talked back to and insulted. Arthur scowled and refused to look at Merlin as he strapped the shield onto his left arm, securing it around his forearm. He shifted his shoulder, getting the heavy wood to settle comfortably. “Helmet, please, Kel .” He spoke deliberately, looking directly at the boy. He almost collapsed, bowing so low that it was a wonder he didn’t pitch forwards. Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look over the boy’s bent back. Merlin curled his lip. Once the boy had straightened from his ridiculous bow he handed Arthur his helmet. “Thank you, my lord. Your Highness!” he cried then scuttled off, beaming. Arthur grinned to himself. “That helmet won’t fit if you keep letting your head swell.” Arthur stopped grinning. He was tempted to kick Merlin again but settled for snatching the reins from him instead. He settled his helmet on his head, snapping the visor down and nudged his horse into a trot to the end of the tilt. The crowd cheered again. “Prince Arthur!” The list master shouted, drawing even more applause and whistling from the crowd. “Sir Leon!” A fair amount of applause thundered for Leon as well, he was well liked by the crowds as one of the best knights in the kingdom. Merlin handed up Arthur’s lance. “Good luck, my lord.” Arthur squinted down at him through the narrow slit in his visor, trying to gauge if he was being sarcastic. He couldn’t tell. He lifted his lance, adjusting his grip until it felt comfortable in his hand. He readied his lance, raised his shield and pressed the balls of his feet down in the stirrups. The list master lifted the white flag… The crowd roared as the flag was dropped, the two horses surging forwards at a strong canter. Arthur levelled his lance, rising to his feet in the stirrups, leaning forwards, bracing for the impact of his lance ploughing into Leon’s shield. Closer… closer… He let himself rise and fall with the horse’s movements, his eyes narrowed along the length of his lance, ready to strike… There was an almighty crash and pain exploded in his left arm. He was forced back in the saddle, the black clouds of agony blurring his vision. A loud cry echoed around his helmet. He swayed, his lance – broken from his own hit against Leon’s shield – slipping from his fingers. His horse kept running, trained to run to the end of the tilt, even when his grip on the reins slackened and he toppled forwards against her neck. She stopped and turned at the end of the tilt, prancing nervously at the lack of response from him. Someone was shouting his name. Several figures were running towards him but through the pain and the slit in his visor he couldn’t make out more than vague shapes. Hands took the reins, his horse settling. Someone had their hands him, on his thigh and his lower back. They were holding him in the saddle, stopping him slipping sideways off the horse. He reached up and yanked his helmet off, the weight of it pulling his arm back down the minute it slipped off his head. He grimaced and let it drop to the ground. It was Merlin holding him, of course. He’d also been the one shouting his name. His face was etched with concern. “Arthur! Are you–” he started, one hand reaching for the shield, the other steady on his thigh still. Arthur tried to pull himself upright in his saddle. He still had his pride, even if he was winded and gasping for breath against the constant screaming agony in his arm, shoulder and ribs. “I’m not a girl, Merlin,” he managed to squeeze out through lips that wanted to scream. “I can take a hit.” He’d been jousting for years and this was hardly the worst hit he’d had. “Not like that one. I think your arm might be broken.” Well that explained the excruciating pain then. He looked over at the stands; his father had risen from his throne, one hand on the railing on front of him and a frown on his face, but he made no move to come closer. He looked disappointed that his son had been defeated, more than worried his son had been hurt. Arthur let out a grunt and turned back to Merlin. “Let’s get you back to the tent,” Merlin said calmly. The young squire from earlier – Arthur had forgotten his name already – was holding his reins, stroking the horse’s nose while staring wide eyed at Arthur. Merlin chivvied him on and he began leading the horse back off the tilt yard. When they got to Arthur’s tent Merlin reached up to hook a hand under Arthur’s armpit. Arthur braced his good arm against Merlin’s shoulder, gritting his teeth and groaning as he slid off the horse. His feet had barely touched the ground when someone else ran to his side. “Sire!” Leon’s hair was plastered to his face with sweat, his gaze scanning Arthur quickly. He fell to one knee at Arthur’s feet, his head bowed. “My apologies, my lord. I’m sorry. I never intended to injure you.” “Rise, Sir Leon,” Arthur said wearily. “It is a tournament, you are meant to hit me.” “But you are the Crown Prince, my lord.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at Leon, who had not risen from his knees yet. “Get on your bloody feet, Leon,” he snapped. His arm was throbbing and he found he didn’t have the patience to listen to his friend apologising any more. “Sorry, my lord.” Leon stood. Arthur nodded then looked away from him. Merlin was still standing beside him, propping him up with an arm around his back. “Sir Leon,” Merlin started, clearly trying to take charge of the situation. “I need to get his shield off his arm, could you help?” He pushed Arthur into a chair, still supporting his injured arm carefully. “Of course, shall I fetch Gaius?” “No, just, hold the shield, take its weight while I undo the straps.” Arthur tried not to yelp as the shield was jostled on his arm. Leon held it gently where Merlin told him to, pulling it slowly away from Arthur’s body so Merlin could get his hands in behind it. Merlin’s fingers were like daggers up his wrist, every touch agonizing despite his manservant’s gentleness. He found he was holding his breath as Merlin unfastened the two straps that held the shield to his arm, one on his wrist the other just below the crook of his elbow. He let the breath out with a sharp yell as Merlin slid his arm out of the straps. The shield had been holding it steady like a splint but now without the support of the strong wood, it was throbbing and burning, sending pain radiating up his shoulder. “Yep definitely broken,” Merlin said, slowly pushing Arthur’s chainmail up his elbow. “Find Gaius,” he asked Leon, who immediately dropped the shield to the floor beside Arthur’s chair and sprinted from the tent. Arthur let his head fall back against the chair, a groan forcing its way out of his throat. “So,” Merlin started, the tone of his voice telling Arthur he was about to be insulted or teased. “You’re better than Sir Leon, are you?” “Yes,” he said stubbornly. “Sir Leon doesn’t have a broken arm.” He aimed a kick at Merlin’s shin but Merlin stepped to the side easily. “Sir Leon is a fine knight with excellent jousting skills,” Arthur said. “He got in a very good hit.” Merlin nodded sagely. “So what does that make you then? A prat with bad jousting skills?” “Your prince.” He was saved from having to try and hit Merlin over the head without jostling his broken arm by the arrival of Gaius, who swatted Merlin out of the way and deposited his physician’s bag into his arms. End Notes Thanks for reading! I love any and all reviews! Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Once again, Merlin sacrafices his life, for Arthur. Just this time, he dies. Broken hearted, Arthur finds use in the Horn of Cathbhadh, and sees Merlin's ghost again. Notes this is for Jay! I really hope you like this edit. Your christmas wish was Merlin being all powerful and protecting Arthur and getting hurt, and then Arthur raking care of him... Unfortunately, there aren't many scenes like that- bc it's always Arthur getting hurt, and Merlin taking care of Arthur... So- I created this little AU story, hopefully you like it as well? I wish you a merry christmas and health for you and your family. Take care, love! AU: Once again, Merlin sacrafices his life, for Arthur. Just this time, he dies. Broken hearted, Arthur finds use in the Horn of Cathbhadh, and sees Merlin's ghost again. Both of them don't want to lose the other, and luckily, this time, destiny is on their side. Because as it was for told, Merlin belongs at Arthur's side. They're two sides, who make each other whole again. So Merlin comes back to life. But that doesn't change their future. Merlin and Arthur live together, side by side, till the day Merlin loses Arthur. But their story is far from over, because Arthur will rise again. *it's extremely not extrimly omg I am so sorry for that spelling mistake fml Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

A collection of Merthur kiss one-shots, all in one convenient place. Each work will be a separate chapter, with its own title and summary. See notes for each chapter for possible warnings about content. For A Few Reasons Chapter Summary When Merlin finds out about a group of men looking for Arthur, he hides the Prince's identity in the best way he can think of. And no, it isn't using magic. Merlin's lung were burning, his legs screaming at him to stop, but he keeps moving. It had been foolish of him to leave his Prince in the small room above the tavern to go talk with Kilgharrah. He had known that it would be a long shot, the dragon helping them with the journey they were on, but he had still hoped. While making his way back, he had spotted a fire. A camp of burly and dangerous looking men. Men apparently with a vendetta against the Royal Family of Camelot. How they had heard that Arthur was there now, in this small village, Merlin did not know. All he was sure of was that, if they managed to find him, they would undoubtedly try to kill him. If he had been able to sneak away from the camp undetected, he may have been able to get to Arthur, and have them both gone by the time the men ever stepped foot in the village. Instead, he had tripped magnificently, drawing too much unwanted attention, and had to run. His legs nearly give out in sheer relief as the village comes into view, but he forces himself to keep sprinting forward. He can hear the sounds of the men and women inside the tavern as he approaches, laughs and shouts and off-tune singing. He pays all of it no mind as he careens into the door, nearly knocking it right out of place as he falls through. He narrowly avoids falling again, lungs heaving in deep breaths as he steadies himself. All eyes are again on him as he rushes into the room. Disgruntled shouts, and rather rude names, are tossed at his retreating back as he weaves his way through the crowded floor to the stairs at the back. He bumps into some poor soul, and gets a shove to his back in retaliation. He stumbles into the wall, barely taking a second to shake himself off as he moves for the stairs. The angry shouts die down as he takes the rickety stairs two at a time. They groan threateningly under his feet as he charges up them. As soon as his feet reach the upper floor, he's moving quickly in the direction of the room he had left Arthur behind in. He is keenly aware of his pulse racing in his chest as he nears the door. He doesn't have many options available to him. As good a warrior as Arthur is, there are too many highly skilled men for the Prince to handle alone. The room is too small for Merlin to risk using his magic to defend him, and he doesn't have time to grab Arthur, and their things, and leave before the men get here. His only option, really, was to hide Arthur. Disguise him long enough for the men to move on. But how? Arthur snaps his head up in surprise when Merlin bursts through the door. "And where exactly have you been? And why do you look like you've just come from a rather arduous training session? What's the matter with you?" Merlin ignores the Prince's questions, instead asking one of his own. "Arthur, do you trust me?" The Prince's face contorts slightly. "What kind of question is that? What's going on, Merlin?" "I don't have time to explain." Merlin replies in a rush, taking a step closer, keenly aware of the door to the tavern banging open again downstairs. "Do you trust me? Yes or no?" For one heart stopping moment, Arthur doesn't reply. Merlin almost asks again, more urgently, when the Prince finally says in a soft voice, "Of course I do." With a sigh of relief, Merlin angles his body so he is between Arthur and the door, then steps close enough to cradle the Prince's jaw, keeping him steady as he leans in and kisses him soundly on the mouth. Arthur makes a muffled sound of surprise, hands coming up to rest on Merlin's wrists, and for a moment, Merlin is worried that Arthur is going to pull away and yell at him, effectively giving them both away. Instead, he starts to kiss back, fingers settling over the pulse point in Merlin's wrist. Merlin's head swims for a moment, but he quickly comes back to himself as he hears heavy footfalls on the stairs, ascending to the second floor. His heart very nearly gives out as he suddenly remembers the ring bearing the Pendragon crest adorning Arthur's finger. If anything now was going to give them away, it would be that. Easily enough, he pulls his wrist away from Arthur's grip, moving his hand to run gently over the back of Arthur's. Deft fingers grip the cool metal, and slide it from the Prince's finger unnoticed. Under the disguise of gripping the Prince's hips with both hands to walk him forcefully backwards into the wall, he slips the ring into the small pouch hanging from Arthur's belt. Just in time, too, as the multitude of footsteps reach the upper floor and start down the narrow hall, opening doors roughly as they go. As Arthur's back connects with the hard, unforgiving stone wall behind him, he separates from Merlin's mouth with a soft, breathy gasp. Startled blue eyes fix on Merlin's face before sword calloused fingers curl into the hair on the back of his head, and pull him back in for a much more heated kiss then before. Merlin makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he realizes just how much Arthur seems to want this. He lets his attention wander to the footfalls approaching the door he so stupidly left open. Not that it would have made much of a difference. Arthur must hear them too, because he tenses in Merlin's hold, and again Merlin fears that Arthur will push him away. He tightens his grip on the Prince's hips. A warning. A plea. "Hey, you there!" A gruff voice growls out. Merlin's heartrate explodes, and he presses closer to Arthur, trying to make their embrace look as passionate as possible in a desperate attempt to make whoever these men are feel awkward and want to leave. He hears one of them take a step into the room, and he fears that they're about to be made, when he hears a snort of disgruntled disgust behind them. "Damn bloody kids." The gruff voice snaps, before footsteps lead back out of the room. Merlin keeps his mouth firmly against Arthur's until all the footfalls from all the men have passed the door. When they're gone, he pulls away, but only far enough to catch his breath. There is only one way to and from this floor, and the men will have to pass by again on their way back to the stairs. Arthur is again staring at him with wide, shocked eyes, looking slightly dazed. Under any other circumstances, Merlin would revel in his ability to render the great Prince of Camelot speechless. He tenses as he hears the men returning. He presses his face closer to Arthur's letting their noses brush, but their lips remain separate. He hears grumbled curses shot their way in several different voices as the men all pass. Merlin closes his eyes tight, and prays that none of them decide to approach them after all. He doesn't realize that he's held his breath until he hears all the men descend the stairs back into the tavern below. Arthur noticeably shivers as Merlin's breath ghosts across his still slightly parted lips. He stays where he is, pressed close to the Prince, until he hears the men leave. "Right." Merlin says, pushing away as he steadfastly ignores his body begging him to kiss Arthur again. "We need to leave." Arthur blinks at him. "What?" 'Gods above, he even sounds dazed.' Merlin thinks as he takes another step away, turning to survey the room, and what of Arthur's belongings had been unpacked. Thankfully, there's not much there, so he moves to the bed to repack everything into Arthur's bag. When he turns, both his and the Prince's bags slung over his shoulder, he finds Arthur exactly where he had left him, leaning against the wall, blinking owlishly at him. "Arthur, come on. Those men are here, looking for you . We need to get out of here before they come back." Merlin says, bordering on slightly desperate. Honestly, what was the matter with him? Merlin waits with bated breath as Arthur blink again, then seems to give himself a little shake. "Right." He says, finally pushing away from the wall. Merlin heaves a relieved sigh, and heads for the still open door, peeking out to look both up and down the hall to make sure none of them were still lingering in wait. They were completely alone, so he steps out, leading them carefully to the stairs. "Merlin." Arthur says, close behind him, sounding alarmingly more coherent. "Not now, Arthur. We need to leave first." Merlin snaps back. There's an annoyed and irritated huff behind him, and he knows that he's walking the line between pushing Arthur too far and coming off as his normal, insolent self. He treads down the stairs slowly, ears strained to hear anything out of the ordinary from the crowd downstairs. He can feel Arthur behind him, much closer than normal, if the heat along his back is anything to go by, but resolutely refuses to think about it. He won't let himself linger on the feel of Arthur's lips pressing back against his own until they are completely clear of any and all immediate dangers. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Merlin casts an uneasy look around the room. He doesn't see any new faces from when he burst inside earlier, but he remains tense and on guard. Who knew what these people did for a living, or in their spare time. Any number of them could have been bought off by those men. They heard of Arthur's whereabouts somehow, after all. Deciding to lead them around the perimeter of the room, so as to avoid the people scattered over the tables throughout the center of the room, he grabs Arthur's wrist and tugs. Arthur huffs behind him again, but surprisingly allows himself to be lead forward. Several hard glares are sent their way, the patrons still unhappy with Merlin's rather rushed entrance earlier. Merlin gasps in a breath of fresh air as they make it outside. There's no one around, but seeing through the quickly fading light is difficult, and far from accurate. There was an almost vibrating tension underneath Merlin's skin, and he just wanted to get out of this village as soon as possible. "We need to get to the horses, and ride as far from here as we can." Merlin whispers to the Prince, now standing beside him. "Good idea. You get them, and meet me back here." Arthur replies. A jolt of panic runs through Merlin's body at the thought of them being separated again. Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, "No!" Arthur looks at him, eyebrows raised. "No?" "We should stick together. We'll be safer that way." Merlin says, not wanting to give away just how little he likes the idea of being apart from his Prince when he knows that danger was nearby. He holds his breath as Arthur looks him over with an unreadable expression on his face. "Of course. How could I forget how useless you are at protecting yourself. Very well, Merlin, we'll go get the horses together." Arthur replies, but something about the tone of his voice tells Merlin that Arthur actually does agree with him, he just doesn't want to admit it. Without another word, Merlin leads them off in the direction of the stables nearby. He keeps his eyes and ears trained for any sounds that could alert an attack, but everything around them is quiet. Where did the men go? Before he can take another step, Arthur grabs his shoulder and pulls him around the corner and out of sight, just as two men appear out of the stables, grumbling about royalty and spoiled princes. They wait for several beats after the voices have faded to nothing before ducking back out onto the narrow street, and jogging the rest of the way to the wooden building. Merlin's usual mount nickers softly as they slip inside, and he brushes his fingers gently over the mare's nose before hurrying to grab their tack from the wall. To his surprise, Arthur grabs his own, easily getting his own stallion ready by himself. If they weren't so pressed for time, Merlin would allow himself the opportunity to stop and gawk at Arthur actually doing something for himself. As it is, he rushes through dong up buckles, and settling their bags behind his mare's saddle, as Arthur leads his mount to the large doors. Merlin leads his own over as Arthur slowly opens them. With no one in sight, still, they lead their horses out into the fading light, being sure to close the door behind them. No need to announce their presence, or their sudden departure. They both swing up into the saddle easily, making eye contact as they settle on their mounts. Through wordless agreement, they decide to head west, out of the village away from Camelot, and closer to the border of the kingdom. Arthur naturally takes the lead as he kicks his horse forward, the stallion shaking his head in disapproval before surging forward. Merlin's mare follows close behind, happy to let Arthur lead. They hear a few shouts as they gallop through the village streets, but hear no signs on pursuit. Arthur doesn't slow until he reaches the tree line, and even then, he only slows enough so neither horse trips as they move through the dense foliage in the coming darkness. Merlin remains tense until he feels that they're far enough away from the village, still with no sounds of pursuit, that they're out of danger. His magic stops prickling under his skin, ready to burst forth at his command. His shoulders drop from their previous tense line, and he takes a deep breath, to properly fill his lungs since before he found the men to start with. "What were you doing?" Arthur asks, and Merlin startles at the sudden noise in the otherwise quiet forest around them. "I'm not doing anything." He says, confused. Arthur gives him a look, easily telling him that he's an idiot by the expression on his face alone. "No, I mean before. You left. What were you doing?" The Prince clarifies. Merlin's heartrate picks back up again, the tension returning to his shoulders. He couldn't exactly tell Arthur that he was consulting the supposedly dead Great Dragon about the reported magical disturbances along the border of the kingdom. Not yet, anyway. "When we passed through earlier, I had noticed some herbs that Gaius was running low on. They're notoriously hard to find, so I thought I'd go back and try and find them." He lies smoothly, internally wincing at how dirty he felt to have to continue to lie to his Prince. Arthur hums thoughtfully. "And did you? Find them?" Merlin grunts. "I found something, but it wasn't herbs." He replies. When Arthur raises an eyebrow, barely seen through the dark, Merlin elaborates. "I came across the camp of those men. They had a grudge against your family, and had heard you were there. They wanted to kill you. I couldn't let them." "So," Arthur starts slowly, "instead of just telling me that before..." He drags off, and Merlin's cheeks redden, either from embarrassment or annoyance, he isn't sure. "In case you didn't notice, I didn't have a lot of time to explain anything to you." He grouches. "Besides, if I had, you would've just wanted to fight your way out, and there were too many of them. Even for you." The Prince merely hums again, and Merlin would give anything to be able to read his thoughts. Memories of kissing the man rise back to the forefront of his mind, and he finds himself wanting to make more of the same memories. The feel of Arthur pressed so close to him had been intoxicating, in a way, and he desperately wanted to know if Arthur felt the same way. He had kissed back, after all. Despite the questions burning in his mind, he holds his tongue, obediently following after his Prince in silence. They ride for another hour or so before Arthur deems them safe, and they stop to make camp for the night. Again, to his vast surprise, Arthur takes care of his own horse, avoiding looking at Merlin at all costs. Merlin feels the sting of that particular rejection strongly, and mumbles about going to find firewood before slipping back out into the quiet solitude of the trees. When he returns with an armful of dry kindling, he finds Arthur seated on the ground, back to a tree, staring thoughtfully ahead of him. He blinks back to the present as Merlin approaches and drops the branches on the ground. They remain quiet, much to Merlin's fraying nerves, as he sets the branches up properly, and sets them alight. He sits back for a moment, wanting to rest for a second before laying out their bedrolls. His muscles were protesting his long sprint from earlier, and he just wanted to sleep. He's just about to force his body up to continue setting up their camp, when Arthur inhales deeply, readying himself to speak. "Was there any other reason?" He asks, voice quiet. Merlin stares at him, body freezing still as images of having to confess his magic here and now flood his mind. When Merlin doesn't reply, Arthur look directly into his eyes, and adds, "For kissing me. Did you only do it to hide my identity from those men?" Merlin stares at him, trying to keep his mouth from falling open, as he registers the almost vulnerable way in which the Prince had voiced his question. Was there another reason? Yes. Simple as that. Merlin had been fighting back feelings for the Royal Prat since shortly after everything with Valiant happened. When Merlin still fails to reply, Arthur flushes slightly in the firelight, and looks away, mumbling something under his breath that could be, "Nevermind." "Did you want there to be another reason?" Merlin blurts before he can really think of a proper response. Arthur's eyes snap back to meet his. Merlin meets the scrutiny head on. "If there were... other reasons ," Arthur says slowly, "I wouldn't necessarily be opposed to them." That was not the answer that Merlin has been expecting. He had long ago resigned himself to the fact that his frustratingly growing affections would always be unrequited. The fact that this assumption may not actually be the case has him staring mutely at the Prince again. When Arthur shifts uncomfortably, so subtly that no one but Merlin would notice, Merlin forces himself to speak. "What exactly would you do if there were other reasons?" Merlin asks, heart in his throat. Arthur studies him intently for a long moment before nodding to himself, seemingly coming to a decision. "I would tell you to do it again." He replies, voice sure, and face even more so. There are absolutely no hints of uncertainty or indecisiveness anywhere around him. He means every word. Merlin inhales sharply, eyes dropping to Arthur's lips without him consciously doing so. Arthur seems to notice, as he shifts slightly, leaning ever so slightly closer. Merlin forces his eyes back up to Arthur's as he swallows thickly. Intense, deep, blue eyes are already looking back at him. Practically boring down into his very soul. "Kiss me." The Prince orders, voice low and sure and commanding. Merlin's body obeys before he even fully realizes that he's doing so, crawling forward to straddle the Prince's outstretched legs. Arthur exhales heavily as he leans back against the tree trunk behind him, hands on Merlin's waist pulling him closer. "Kiss me." He says again, quiet this time, so only the air around them gets disturbed by the words. Merlin has to swallow thickly again before complying with the Prince's command. This kiss is even better than their first. There is no outward sense of urgency to it, no looming dangers to them. It's just them, and the crackling of the fire next to them. The distant sounds of forest life, and the horses munching contentedly on grain. Merlin's heart flutters madly in his chest as he focuses solely on the feel of Arthur's lips pressed willingly to his own. When they slowly break apart, Arthur looks up at Merlin in his lap, eyes sparkling in a way that Merlin has never seen before. He smiles back, soft and shy, keenly aware of the red flush to his cheeks. "Your other reasons are permissible." Arthur says, in as much of a royal tone as he can muster. Merlin barks out a delighted laugh. "Good to know, Sire." He says, leaning in to kiss him again languidly. A "Friendly" Conversation Chapter Summary After having Merlin's magic revealed to him, Arthur takes some time to sort through his thoughts. Their resulting talk doesn't exactly go the way he had imagined it would. It had been a few days shy of a fortnight since Arthur had last spoken to Merlin, and he was still angry. How could he not be after the conversation they'd had? Merlin. His clumsy, insolent, idiot of a manservant had magic. Had always had magic, apparently. The sting of being lied to for nearly an entire decade was still fresh and raw. Arthur had trusted Merlin with even the most private parts of himself, but the other man had never deemed him worthy enough to return the favour. Instead, he had lied, continuously. 'My magic is yours, Arthur! I only ever use it for you. To keep you safe!' Merlin had said that day. In fact, it was one of the last things he had said before Arthur had sent him away. And he had stayed away, just like Arthur had asked him to. He needed space to think, to go over what he knew of magic, what he had been told his whole life, and what he truly believed it to be now. In almost ten years, Merlin had never once tried to harm him. That had to say something. Didn't it? A sudden need to get out of the castle, out of the city altogether, arises, and he gets to his feet. Though he was still loath to do so, he needed to find Merlin. Twelve days should be long enough, and they needed to talk. Privately. Where no one could interrupt them. He spends the next half an hour scouring the Royal Household in search of his servant, who, for the first time in possibly his entire life, had taken Arthur's orders seriously and was frustratingly impossible to find. By the time he finally found him, walking into the courtyard in dusty clothes, with a laden down bag of herbs over his shoulder, the King was frustrated and annoyed all over again. Merlin looked wary as Arthur approached, dark storm clouds practically visible over his angry set face. The lingering hint of fear in Merlin's eyes brings Arthur pause. Thinking back over their rather heated conversation before, Arthur realized that he had never actually said anything regarding Merlin's fate. The laws of Camelot still called for Merlin's execution for possessing and performing magic within the kingdom. Merlin's current expression clearly spoke of this thought at the forefront of his mind, and it very nearly makes Arthur flinch. Merlin didn't actually think that Arthur would have him executed. Did he? "Merlin." He says, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "You need to pack our things." "Why?" Merlin asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Arthur huffs an aggravated sigh. "Because I told you to." When Merlin doesn't move to obey, Arthur huffs again. "We're leaving to go on a hunting trip, and we need supplies in case we stay out over night." Merlin looks him over shrewdly. "I don't recall seeing a hunting trip on your Royal Schedule, Sire." He says. Arthur glares at him. "Well, it is now. Now stop questioning the orders of your king , and go do as I asked." As Merlin scowls and walks away, muttering under his breath about having to do everything for the spoiled prat, Arthur rubs at his face wearily. Almost two weeks of barely seeing each other, two weeks of no words spoken between them, and it gets broken with an argument. He glances around the crowded courtyard surreptitiously, hoping that they hadn't drawn any unwanted attention to themselves. Despite his being the king, no one seems to have paid them any attention. Thankfully. He makes his way back into the castle, being sure to avoid all pathways Merlin might be using to gather their supplies. He winces outwardly as he thinks about Merlin's future annoyance over packing their hunting equipment, and then Arthur not making use of it. It really couldn't be helped, however, as Arthur knew well enough that if he had merely asked Merlin to leave the city with him to talk, the man would've undoubtedly had questions, or started yelling, or even flat out refused. Being the king clearly made no difference to Merlin when it came to him being as stubborn as a mule. "There you are!" Merlin says loudly as he bursts through the Council Chambers' doors. Arthur startles and looks up at him. He quickly schools his features back to something more uncaring and aloof. "Here I am. Are you finished doing as I asked, then?" He replies, a harsher edge to his tone than he had intended. He was still angry, after all, he reminds himself. "Yes." Merlin bites back. Arthur lifts an eyebrow. Merlin huffs a breath out through his nose, flaring his nostrils in frustration. "Yes, Sire ." "Good." Arthur replies in faux cheerfulness. "What are we waiting for? Let's go then." Merlin opens his mouth to retort, most likely about how it had been him who had been avoiding Merlin and therefore holding up their departure, but wisely closes his mouth and silently follows the King out of the room. The eerie and unusual silence follows them all the way through the stone halls, to the heavy wooden doors leading them outside. As promised, two horses are awaiting them in the sunshine, one laden down with all manner of supplies, the other standing regally and waiting for the King. A warm breeze picks up, ruffling the horses' manes as they chomp on the metal in their mouths. Arthur nods and descends the stone staircase toward them. "I'm assuming everything is as you desired, my Lord?" Merlin says from beside him as he quickly checks over the various buckles holding his mount's tack in place. The King grits his teeth in frustration. This was not going to be an enjoyable venture out of the city. However, it was unfortunately necessary. "Yes, it's fine, Merlin." He replies, brushing Merlin aside as he settles a foot in the stirrup and swings up onto his horse's back. The mare senses his agitation and shuffles on the spot uneasily, snorting her disapproval. Arthur soothes a hand down her gleaming neck to calm her, glancing over his shoulder to see Merlin settling upon his own mount, a trusty old gelding that Arthur himself had practically learned to ride on. Merlin meets his eyes and gives him a nod. Arthur nods back and nudges his horse forward. She immediately breaks into a trot, heading for the entrance to the courtyard automatically. The King hears Merlin following behind, and feels himself relax. At least the man was still willing to go wherever the King led. The stilted and frosty silence remains as they manoeuvre through the streets of the Lower Town. The people of Camelot all respectfully move out of their way, the younger ones crowding along the edges of the streets to watch their king ride by. Arthur smiles at them politely. He may be angry with Merlin, and that anger may still be festering under his skin, but he wasn't going to take that out on his people. If the children wanted a king that they could look up to, and stare at with awe, then that is what he would give them. Nevermind how Merlin always said it made his head too big for his own crown. Arthur breathes a sigh of relief as they finally step free from the city. It had started feeling suffocating there. All the people. All the laws demanding Arthur make a very specific decision. He glances over at Merlin, sees him looking up at the clouds in the sky, of all things, a hint of a smile playing at his lips, and he just knows . As angry as he was now, he wouldn't stay that way. However, the potential for things to get a little more heated between them is still there, as Merlin drops his gaze to meet Arthur's, and his face hardens noticeably. Arthur feels how own expression go stony before he looks away. Yes, they still had a long, potentially on fire, road ahead of them before they could go back to the way they were. One deep breath later, after deciding it was time to start down that dangerous path, Arthur says, "Merlin, I believe that it's time we have a talk." "Oh, that's rich," Merlin snaps, "coming from the man who's refused to so much as look in my general direction for nearly a fortnight." Arthur slowly counts to ten in his head. "I've needed time to think, and I couldn't do that with you around." "Am I really so much of a distraction that you honestly can't think when I'm around?" Merlin retorts. Arthur has to try and swallow his tongue before he responds to that statement with something stupid and damning. 'Yes, you are. And it's not just the betrayal and the lies. It's the truth behind how close we're grown. It's the feelings I've never felt before rushing to the surface whenever I see your blue eyes. It's the temptation I feel every time you open your mouth and speak.' Instead, he says, "Forgive me if I didn't want a further reminder of your treason every time I tried to figure what to do with you." His snapped words have their desired effect, Merlin instantly shutting his mouth, screwing up his face like he had tasted something overly sour, or vile. Arthur feels a flare of regret over his harsh words, but doesn't speak again. He takes his time, regulating his breathing, focusing on the scenery around him, the things he can reach out and touch, the smells filling the air around them, the taste of the forest air on his tongue. "We were never coming out here to hunt, were we?" Merlin says, breaking the tense silence between them. "No." Arthur admits. Merlin nods. "You brought me out here to, what? Pass your sentence in private? Wanted to spare me the humiliation of being sentenced to death or exile in front of the entire Royal Court? My friends?" "What? No! Of course not!" Arthur exclaims, scandalized. "Gods above, Merlin, why on earth would you even think that?" He adds with a frown. Merlin raises his eyebrows incredulously. "Oh, I don't know, Arthur, you tell me. Maybe the countless number of executions I've had to witness since stepping foot in Camelot has something to do with that." He drawls sarcastically. "No one has been executed for sorcery since I took the throne." Arthur argues. Merlin snorts out an unamused laugh at the King's words. "The laws are still there, Arthur. How am I, how are any of the people like me, supposed to know that our magic isn't going to ultimately end with our execution?" Merlin shoots back angrily. "It isn't fair to assume the worst of me, Merlin. I am not my father, and those laws were not put in place by my decree. Do not take my father's shortcomings out on me." Arthur replies through gritted teeth. This was certainly not going as well as he had hoped. "Maybe not, but they're still there. Can you really blame me for thinking I wasn't safe?" Merlin's clipped words have the King's eyes snapping back to his. "You could have talked to me. I can't read your mind, Merlin, how was I supposed to know that you didn't feel safe around me?" He snaps. Merlin's mouth drops open for a moment in shock, and Arthur goes back over what he had said, and winces slightly. Very softly, Merlin says, "I did try to talk to you, Arthur. You know what that got me? Nothing. You can barely stand the sight of me." His voice grows in volume as he continues. "You know how hard it was to decide to finally tell you my deepest and darkest secret? And all I got in return was you turning your back on me. You sent me away with hatred in your eyes, assuming the worst of me, and replaced me without a second thought. I'm not even allowed to bring you breakfast and wake you in the morning anymore. George is doing all that!" "That's not true!" Arthur argues. "I did not replace you. I just needed space to think over what you had told me! Is that really so big a crime?" Merlin huffs another unamused laugh before shaking his head and looking away. "I don't know why I expected anything different from you." He spits harshly, as if ever having any faith in his king was the dumbest thing he's ever done. "I was waiting until I was less angry with you before trying to talk with you, but you are so infuriating. I don't know why I ever thought that, that could happen." Arthur snaps. The man riding along next to him shifts cold, hard eyes back his way. "If you hate me so much, then why are we even having this conversation? Why not end it now and be done with it?" Merlin's words push Arthur over the edge. He reins his horse in so sharply that the mare throws her head back to try to escape the harsh pull in her mouth. Rage is bubbling hotly in Arthur's stomach, rising up his chest, as he dismounts, pushing away from the mare's side to land heavily in the dirt beside her. He tosses the reins onto her neck, walking around her to grab Merlin's mount's reins and pulling him to a stop as well. Merlin glares down at him as Arthur steps closer, eyes opening wide as Arthur reaches up to grab a fistful of the front of his tunic. He lets out a yelp as Arthur tugs, pulling him from the saddle, and very nearly depositing him on the ground in a heap. Only the King's strong grip on his clothing keeps him upright. "Arthur, what the hell?!" Merlin yells as he steadies himself. Arthur doesn't answer, just uses his grip on Merlin's tunic to pull him close enough to angrily claim his mouth with his own. Merlin grunts in surprise, lifting his hands up to settle over Arthur's ribs, as if moving to push him away. However, he pauses for a moment, hands resting on Arthur's body, and then he presses closer, matching the angry intensity of Arthur's lips with his own as he slides his hands around to the King's back. One hand splays across his lower back, as the other moves to take a handful of his tunic between his shoulder blades. Arthur lets his other hand settle on Merlin's hip, fingers practically bruising through the cloth of his trousers. Merlin's reciprocation of his embrace spurs Arthur on, and he growls low in his throat as he bites at Merlin's lower lip, licking into his mouth as Merlin meets his challenge head on. From there, it devolves into a hot tangle of tongues and a clash of teeth as they both fight to win over control. As abruptly as he dove in, Arthur retreats, breathing heavy and harsh. He only pulls away enough to see Merlin's eyes. He can't tell if they're dazed, shocked, or angry. Perhaps a mix of all three. He lets his own eyes flick back and forth between Merlin's before trying to speak. "I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand? Don't you ever think that I hate you." He spits venomously before roughly shoving Merlin away from him. The man stumbles back a few steps, his grip on Arthur's clothing pulling free. Arthur glares at him from this new distance for a few beats before turning his back on the man. Fury still curling in his chest, he grabs the reins from around his horse's neck and strides angrily away on foot, leading the mare behind him. The farther from Merlin that he gets, the more his anger cools, and the more realization of what he had just done fully hits him. Gods, what had he just done? Why had he done that? He had just been so angry, so hurt that Merlin could ever think so low of him, that he had simply stopped thinking at all. His body had completely taken over, and had done that . Now what was he supposed to do? He buries his head in his hands and huffs softly. What a mess he had truly made of things. "Arthur?" A soft, tentative voice says by his side, a few paces farther away that it normally would be. Arthur grunts into his hands, refusing to look up. A very hesitant step brings Merlin a little closer. "Arthur, I'm sorry. I know you don't hate me, and I know you would never sentence me to death. I shouldn't have assumed the worst of you, that wasn't fair." Merlin says, voice still soft and giving, not as harsh and unyieldingly stubborn as it had been before. "Then why continue to lie?" Arthur asks, dropping his hands, but still refusing to look at the man beside him. Merlin inhales deeply. "At first, I had to lie, because I didn't know you. Then, I didn't want to make you choose between me and your father. After that, it was me and your kingdom. It wouldn't have been fair of me to put you in that position." Arthur frowns. "Merlin, that doesn't make any sense. Even when my father was alive, I could have helped you. I would have kept you safe. How could you not know that?" A gentle hand settles on his forearm, finally making Arthur look up to meet Merlin's eyes. Even his face has gone soft and open. Vulnerable in a way that Arthur hasn't seen for nearly a fortnight. "I should have told you sooner. I wanted to. There were so many times I just wanted to blurt the words out, but I was scared. I was scared of hurting you, of pushing you away, of ruining whatever it is that we have between us. It was foolish, and I am sorry." Merlin says earnestly. Arthur believes him. He's still hurt, but the anger is gone, the familiar sting of betrayal from someone close to him is gone. It rushed out of him as he had harshly staked his claim to Merlin's lips. Arthur nods slowly. Once. Twice. Opens his mouth to quietly say the words, "I could never hate you, Merlin. Never you." Merlin gives him a small, crooked smile. "I know. Just as I could never hate you, no matter how much of an arrogant prat you can be." A surprised huff of laughter leaves Arthur's lips, and it makes Merlin's shy, tentative smile break out into something brilliant and dazzling. The sunlight catching his eyes almost seems to light up flecks of gold in his eyes, and the sight makes the King's breath catch. Beautiful. He was beautiful. Arthur steps closer again, more questioning this time. Where he had taken what he wanted last time, he now wanted to ask permission. Merlin's sunny smile sobers back down to the merest curl of his lips as he reads Arthur's unspoken intentions. Reaching out, Merlin ghosts his fingertips along the King's jaw, making Arthur close his eyes as he sighs softly. He doesn't flinch as slightly parted lips brush over his own, just a little damp from a pink tongue. While their first kiss had been rough and demanding, this one is soft and pure. Arthur revels in the slow slide of Merlin's lips upon his own, the taste of him lingering as he slowly pulls away. Arthur opens his eyes a few seconds after Merlin leaves, finding blue eyes already looking back. "There's something I want you to look at." Arthur says. "New laws on magic that I had begun drafting before you ever even told me about yours. I don't want any of my people to have to live in fear. Especially not you." Merlin huffs a watery laugh. "You are unbelievable, you know that?" He asks, smiling at the King so lovingly that it makes Arthur's stomach flop. "You are already a much better king than your father ever could've hoped to be." The words make Arthur's blood sing, and he smiles back hopefully. Merlin leans in again, this time simply letting their foreheads come to rest together. Arthur watches as Merlin closes his eyes, and sighs happily. Maybe this hadn't all gone terribly wrong after all. They really did still need to talk, but at least he knew that they were on the right track now. An Insufferable Idiot Chapter Summary When Merlin gets a call from the hospital about his best friend, he fears the worst. If his reaction when Arthur wakes up involves a little less thinking and a little more instinct, well... who can really blame him? Merlin was a very careful person, and a worrier by nature. He always says that he gets it from his mother, who raised him alone as an only child. He was the type of friend who wanted you to text him when you got home safe, and would text you first if you forgot to. He was the kind of friend who always reminded you not to text and drive whenever you went somewhere. Out at the club with friends, he was the one always double checking that no one was drinking from a glass that they had left unattended for any length of time. His best friend, on the other hand, was not. Arthur Pendragon was impulsive, a result of his father's strict upbringing as a child. For starters, he owned and drove a motorcycle, practically everywhere. Sometimes without a helmet, especially if he was taking Merlin anywhere, as he only had the one and always insisted that Merlin take it instead. He was the kind of person to jump into situations first, and then think about them later. He would pick fights in bars, usually with the biggest bloke in the room. He would cross the street without looking both ways first. He drove Merlin crazy. And Merlin was head over heels in love with him. Merlin's morning had started just like any other as of late. With his alarm failing to go off, resulting in a mad scramble to shower, get dressed, snag a coffee, and make it to his Uncle's small book shoppe in time for work. While the usual disapproving eyebrow was waiting for him when he half ran, half fell through the door, the little bell above happily singing his entrance, he knew that Gaius didn't really mind. He'd always had a soft spot for his nephew, and Merlin knew it. Obviously, he didn't take advantage of it, but it certainly came in handy from time to time. Times such as this. "Good morning, Merlin." Gaius says from the counter, eyes going back down to the paperwork temporarily spread over the surface. "Shall I be investing in a new alarm clock for you for the holidays this year?" Merlin laughs good-naturedly. "Morning, Gaius. You can blame Arthur for my alarm never going off. He was the one who got mad at it for going off too early the other day, and throwing it clear across the room. I don't know why the prat couldn't have just turned it off like a normal human being." He says in explanation. He's too busy shedding his coat to notice the interested look in Gaius' eye as the man looks up to study him. "Arthur stayed the night?" He asks innocently. Merlin pulls a face. "Yeah, a few days ago. He, uh, had gone on another one of his borderline benders with his footie mates. I had to haul his drunk arse back to my flat, cause I didn't trust him not to choke on his own vomit in the middle of the night. The bloke really needs to just settle down." Merlin says, a tinge of worry lacing his tone. Gaius hums non-committally, knowing exactly what would settle Arthur's behaviour down, but not wanting to say anything. He was well aware of his nephew's feelings for his best friend, even if Merlin didn't know that he knew. He also knew that it was a touchy subject for the young man, if his rants of meddling friends were anything to go by. "He is young, Merlin." Gaius says. When Merlin opens his mouth to argue that he is young, too, and not drinking himself into oblivion every other night (a bit of a wild exaggeration, and Merlin knows it ) , Gaius continues, "And he is experiencing true freedom for the first time in his life. I know his father, and I know what a tight leash he kept on that boy. He'll get it out of his system soon." "I hope so." Merlin mumbles, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of his long sleeved shirt. "He's going to give me an ulcer at this rate, the way he stresses me out." Gaius doesn't bother pointing out that most friends, who are only friends, don't worry themselves quite this much over their mates. Instead, he merely nods, gathers his paperwork into a neat pile, then disappears into the back office, telling Merlin to fetch him if anything comes up. Merlin watches him go, then sets about straightening up the book shelves a bit before going to turn the open sign on over the door at promptly nine o'clock. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he frowns at the empty screen. Arthur had usually texted him by now. He knew he wasn't out somewhere, recovering from a long night of booze and partying, because they had FaceTimed last night, and watched a movie together from their separate flats. Arthur had ordered a pizza, while Merlin had ordered in Chinese take-out, and Arthur had passed out on his sofa before the movie had even ended. He was home last night, and therefore should've had time to text him before heading to work this morning himself. Merlin bites his lip, worry filling his chest, and debates sending him a text first (to which Arthur will undoubtedly tease him for later, he did that kind of thing whenever Merlin openly worried about him) , but before he can so much as hover his thumb over the screen, a customer walks in. Merlin shoves his phone in his pocket, and smiles politely. "Hello, welcome to Albion Books. Can I help you find anything specific?" He asks. The young woman smiles at him, cheeks reddened from the chill in the air outside. She politely shakes her head, informs him that she's only browsing, then moves off to wander past the shelves housing a surprisingly large array of books and genres. Merlin lets himself think briefly of Arthur one more time before pushing thoughts of the blond aside. Arthur was fine. He always was. This time was no different, and there was no evidence to support Merlin working himself up over it. Arthur had just been running late this morning. ~~~ When Merlin's lunch hour break comes around, and he still hasn't heard from Arthur, he lets himself feel worried. Merlin can count on one hand the number of times Arthur hasn't contacted him in any way, and they all involved him being disgustingly sick, and one memorable time when he had broken his foot falling down the stairs and the hospital nurses had taken his phone away because it was messing with their equipment. "I'm sure he's fine, Merlin." Gaius says reassuringly as he sets a cup of tea down in front of the younger man. Merlin only frowns. "What exactly do you think has happened to him?" "I don't know." Merlin finally replies. "He's not exactly the most careful person in the world, is he? He attracts trouble, and when he doesn't, he goes looking for it." Merlin lifts a stricken face up to his Uncle. "What if something serious has happened to him this time, Gaius?" Before Gaius can say anything to ease his fears, Merlin's phone starts ringing from where he had placed it on the table earlier. Merlin's blood runs cold when he recognizes the number for the local hospital. He stays frozen in fear and dread for so long that the call nearly rings all the way to voicemail before he finally lunges for it, nearly knocking the device to the hard floor. "Hello?" Merlin answers the call breathlessly. "Hello. Is this Merlin Emrys?" A pleasant sounding voice on the other end of the line asks. "Uhm, yes. Yes, that's me." Merlin stumbles over the words. "Mr. Emrys, I am calling you because you are the emergency contact on file for a Mr. Arthur Pendragon. Do you know this man?" The woman asks. Merlin almost throws up. "Yeah, he's my best friend. Is he okay?" Merlin asks. "Mr. Pendragon was involved in a traffic collision this morning, and brought in for..." Merlin zones out as the woman keeps speaking. Arthur was hurt. Badly enough that they were phoning Merlin for him. He could be lying dead or dying in a hospital bed, could've been all morning while Merlin was telling himself that the man was fine. "Mr. Emrys?" The woman's voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "Uhm, I'll be right there." Merlin says, having no clue as to what the lady was actually talking about, or if she had asked him anything specific. He hangs up before she can say anything else, heart racing in his chest, and hands trembling violently. "Merlin?" Gaius says softly, clearly concerned, and Merlin vaguely wonders just how many times his Uncle has called his name before he'd even heard it. When he looks up to meet his gaze, the man raises his eyebrows in question. "Uhm, it's Arthur. He's in the hospital. Was in an accident this morning. I need to go." Merlin's voice sounds weird to his ears, emotionless and toneless. He's in shock. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that. "I'll drive you." Gaius offers, already rising to his feet to fetch his jacket and keys from his office. Merlin nods idly, already reaching for his coat to pull it on. He follows Gaius out the back door to his car in a daze. It was all a joke. It had to be a joke. Any moment now, Arthur was going to text him, complaining about his boss. Only he doesn't, and Gaius is starting the car and backing out of his parking spot behind the shoppe, and turning to drive Merlin to the hospital. Where Arthur is. After being involved in an accident that morning. Oh, God, what if he really wasn't okay? Why hadn't he paid attention to what that woman had been telling him on the phone? His stomach curls again, and he thinks he might be sick after all. Breathing deeply through is nose, he presses his fist to his mouth, blinking back tears as he stares unseeingly out of the window. He jumps violently when a sudden hand lands on his shoulder. He jolts his head around to look at Gaius in the driver's seat, and only then realizes they've stopped moving. "Would you like me to come in with you?" Gaius asks softly. Merlin nods mutely, desperate for the support at the moment. If anything terribly serious had happened to Arthur, he really didn't know what he would do. Merlin doesn't move to get out of the car until Gaius does, and he follows his Uncle out. He continues to follow all the way to the main hospital entrance. As the scent of disinfectant assaults his nose, he feels the distinct need to vomit again. As they approach the desk, Gaius takes a step back, and Merlin knows he needs to do the talking. "Hi." He says as a smiling brunette lady looks up at him. "My name is Merlin. I got a call about my friend?" Recognition sparks in the woman's eyes. "Ah, Merlin. Yes, we spoke on the phone. Just take a seat, and I will go grab Arthur's attending physician for you." Merlin nods numbly, and moves robotically to take a seat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. There's only two other people in the waiting area with him, a couple who is clearly expecting a baby. Unlike him, these two don't look tense or scared at all. If only everyone could be so lucky. Gaius sits down beside him, a calming and constant presence at his side. "Mr. Emrys." A male voice pulls Merlin out of his thoughts again. He jumps to his feet to shake the Doctor's outstretched hand. "I'm Doctor Bayard, I've been looking after your friend." Merlin swallows. "How is he?" Doctor Bayard chuckles. "I'm sure he's had much better days than the one he's had so far today. He has suffered a fairly significant concussion, has three cracked ribs, and two breaks in his right tibia and fibula, which make up the bone structure of the lower leg." "So," Merlin says slowly, blinks a few times, "does that mean he's okay? Or, going to be okay?" "Mr. Pendragon will make a full recovery, yes. It will take time, but you seem like the type that will keep him under control as he rests and heals." Bayard replies, a slight twinkle in his eyes. Merlin curses himself as he feels his cheeks flush. "I don't know about that, but I'll do my best." He bites his lower lip uncertainly. "Can--can I go see him?" Bayard smiles kindly at him. "Of course. He is still resting after his surgery, we had to set and pin the bones in his leg before casting them, but he should wake soon. You can wait for him in his room. I'll have one of the nurses take you while I go over some of the finer details with..." He drags off as he looks at Gaius. "I'm Gaius, Merlin's uncle." Gaius says. The Doctor nods, then gestures to a young woman who's just appeared at the front desk. "Yes, Sir?" She asks as she approaches. "Sefa, would you take Merlin here to Mr. Pendragon's room, please?" Bayard asks. "Of course." Sefa replies. "Right this way." She adds, smiling brightly at Merlin. Merlin smiles wanly in return as he shifts his focus to her, and follows her into one of the halls. The smell of disinfectant is even stronger here, and Merlin grimaces. White fluorescent lights shine from the high ceiling, and Merlin can feel a headache brewing behind his eyes from everything that has happened today. "It's this one." Sefa says, gesturing to the closed door to their right. "I must say, he's a lucky man to have his boyfriend drop everything to come see him." "Oh, we're not--" Merlin starts, but the nurse has already bid him goodbye and started down the hall to see to her other patients. Merlin stares helplessly after her for a moment before squaring his shoulders and turning to face the closed door. Never has slate grey looked so imposing to him before. With a deep breath, he reaches out to grasp the handle, closing his eyes as he slowly opens the door. When he opens his eyes, he isn't fully prepared for what he sees. Arthur's right leg from the knee down is bound in hard plaster, lying above the blankets covering his other leg and the rest of his body. Merlin can imagine the multitude of bandages wrapped around his ribcage right now. His skin is pale, much more so than Merlin has ever seen it. His usually gleaming, golden hair even looks dull. "God, Arthur. Look at you." Merlin breathes as he steps fully into the room. Closing the door softly behind him, not wanting to disturb his friend, he moves to sit in the equally uncomfortable chair by the bed. As he settles down, his fingers itch to reach out and touch a pale hand, or brush the hair from the man's forehead. He keeps his hands to himself, even as his heart stutters as he looks over the various machines hooked up to his friend. 'It could have been worse.' He thinks to himself. 'I could've lost him. God, I could have lost the man I'm in love with.' He has no idea how long he sits there, waiting for Arthur to wake up, but the stress of the day, all the adrenaline that had been pumped through his body, eventually catches up with him, and he finds himself feeling exhausted. He fights against them, but his eyelids droop, even seated in the hard plastic chair. Deciding to rest his eyes for a moment, he lets his chin fall to rest against his chest. Yes, he'll just close his eyes, keeping his ears fixed on his companion in the room to hear when he wakes up. His eyes get startled open by the sound of a weak chuckle, and a raspy voice saying, "Merlin, you look like hell." Merlin stares at Arthur, awake and alive and mostly whole. His usually bright blue eyes are more grey now, matching his other pale appearance. But it's him, and he's okay, and Merlin is so relieved that he could cry. In fact, his eyes are a little misty at the edges as he leans closer and carefully kisses Arthur on the lips. Before he even has a chance to overthink anything, he pulls away and yells, "What were you thinking? You scared me half to death, Arthur! You know how much I hate that bloody motorcycle! Don't you ever even think of scaring me like this again!" Arthur stares at him wide-eyed, still reeling from the sudden kiss from his best friend. Merlin stares back, wondering if its maybe the pain medication no doubt coursing through Arthur's veins that has the man looking vaguely like someone hit him over the head. Merlin blinks as he slowly realizes what he had done, then promptly bushes bright red. "If it'll get me more of those, I might just have to make this a habit." Arthur finally says, a bit more of his normal mischievous gleam back in is eyes. Merlin brandishes a warning finger at him. "Don't you dare. One more call from the hospital like the one I got earlier, and I'll march right down here and finish you off myself." He says, voice still shaking slightly from sheer relief. Arthur was alive. He was okay. He was awake, and talking, and okay. Tired, yes. In pain, undoubtedly. But he was okay. As that knowledge fully hits home, he crumples back down onto the chair, unaware of when he had even gotten to his feet, and buries his head in his hands. He's aware of his entire body shaking as he slowly breathes in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He hears the steady beeping of the machine next to him, counting every strong beat of Arthur's heart. "Hey." Arthur's soft voice makes Merlin peek back up at him. "I'm going to be fine, Merlin. Nothing to worry about." "Nothing to worry about?" Merlin replies weakly. "Arthur, I got a phone call from the hospital, saying that you had been involved in an accident, and I thought they were calling me to tell me that you were dying. Do you have any idea what that felt like?" Arthur winces slightly. "No, I'm sorry. I never meant to scare you. I'll do my best to stay in one piece from now on." Tears well up in Merlin's eyes again. "You better, you prat. I love you too much to lose you for good." A sharp inhale makes Merlin freeze. Had he just admitted that out loud to his best friend? He had, hadn't he? Now would be a great time for that nurse to come back to check on Arthur. She doesn't, leaving Merlin to very reluctantly lift terrified eyes up to meet his best friend's. "Do you really mean that?" Arthur asks hesitantly. Hopefully? Merlin slowly nods, heart pounding in his throat and blocking off any words that might've been there. Arthur stares at him silently for a moment before breaking out into a breathtaking smile. Merlin can almost imagine the expression adding more colour to his pale complexion. "I do, too, you know." Arthur says. "Love you." His words take a moment to fully register in his brain, but when they do, Merlin stares at him wide-eyed, looking for any hint of a joke or insincerity on Arthur's face. There's nothing but genuine and fond affection staring back. It makes his heart flutter madly as his stomach flip flops nervously. Where did they go from here? Arthur seems to read the expression on Merlin's face, and reaches a weak hand out to him. Merlin huffs a watery laugh and leans closer, kissing him gently again. Pulling away, Merlin says, "You're an idiot. Why didn't you just tell me how you felt?" "Why didn't you?" Arthur retorts. Merlin chuckles softly. "We're both idiots, then." The words make Arthur huff a laugh, then wince slightly. "Come back and kiss me again. I'm in recovery, and I think your lips might be just the prescription I need." Arthur says. Merlin barks out a laugh. "You're going to be insufferable, aren't you?" Merlin asks, already moving to do as Arthur had asked. "You wouldn't have me any other way." Arthur replies, Merlin close enough now that their lips brush over the words. Merlin just properly kisses him again in response, because he was right. He really wouldn't want Arthur any other way than who he always was. Insufferable. Endings and Beginnings Chapter Summary They both know that he's dying, but that doesn't stop Merlin from trying to save his King's life.

Merlin thought his life was worthless; Nobles thought his life was worth less; There was a King, however, who new it was worth so much more. Or Merlin means the world to Arthur. He's going to make Merlin realise that. But when has it ever been that simple between the two of them? Or Welcome to the life of Merlin and Arthur Pendragon. Pining ensues. Notes hello all! I am going to try to make an effort with this story but there is no guarantee that posting chapters will be regular and on time. But I procrastinate a lot so this story will probably still be a WIP by next year lol. Sorry if you prefer regular updates, but maybe the long waits in between might be worth it. I hope you will enjoy this if you dare read it, so yeah, I'll try not to keep any of you waiting! -smolbean Arthur Pendragon liked to go on hunting trips. He always had. It helped him deal with the heavy destiny weighing on his shoulders. He could partially forget about who he really was and how his father's kingdom would one day be his responsibility. It was inevitable. Sometimes, Arthur could feel his future crushing him and so he went hunting. The peace that the forest hummed swept over him with a soft whisper in his ear and a simple ruffle to his hair. In this forest he was just Arthur. Not Prince Arthur. Just Arthur. There were days when he wondered of a world where there was nothing to him other than his personality and his self-worth. But in this world it looked as if fate had other plans for him. Again, the swish of the wind eradicated his thoughts of 'what if?'. He was content and he liked it. The forest never judged him. The forest was the only thing that treated him like an equal. That was until a boy called Merlin turned up. Merlin showed a blind eye toward formality and royal respect. It shocked Arthur at first. No one had ever treated him in the manner that Merlin did. He had entered dangerous territory that other common folk never dared to go into. At first, it made Arthur angry that someone as low as Merlin would provoke a royal like him. His arrogance dissipated quickly though and he felt a strange pull towards the lanky boy with the most prominent of ears. This time, he had quietly thanked destiny. Things felt right when Merlin started to be by his side and Arthur felt himself turn into the man he was in the forest. Arthur Pendragon used to like going on hunting trips. Now, with Merlin by his side and the forest gently playing with his cloak, Arthur loved hunting trips. -------------------- "Come on Mer lin, we're starving!" Arthur moaned to his half-wit of a servant. He wasn't starving, but taunting Merlin seemed to dissipate his boredom. "Well, maybe if you had taught your royal ass to cook, then you would know that it doesn't take seconds to make your dinner!" was Merlin's retort. He really had the guts to say that, but Arthur wouldn't let Merlin win this childish feud. "Actually, if your idiotic head had noticed, you'll find that I am perfectly capable of cooking one of your measly dinners." was all Arthur managed to bounce back. "I really don't doubt you can, sire." Merlin's sarcasm was cute, however Arthur shouldn't be thinking that. "Just hurry up Mer lin, we haven't got all day." Arthur sighed. Maybe the time for friendly squabbles should happen later. Arthur wasn't in the mood for it anymore. "Maybe you would if you got off of that pompous ass you sit on everyday." anyone would be shocked about how Merlin was easily able to insult his king, but with Arthur, it just made him grin even wider. Okay, so maybe he was in the mood for bantering with his idiotic servant. "Being a manservant doesn't mean you can question the way I run the kingdom, Mer lin." Arthur answered reasonably. "It might be my concern if everyone hates you." Merlin was starting to hit Arthur's nerves. It made him want to open up and let his bottled up emotions free, like any normal person would unashamedly do. Arthur didn't like it. "And do they?" Arthur managed to firmly ask. "My answer stands for the whole of Camelot." Merlin replied. What did that mean? "Does it now...mm." maybe if he was sarcastic he could fare off signs of self-doubt. "Of course, sire." "So, Mer lin, what is your answer?" questioned Arthur, secretly wanting to know Merlin's opinion of him. "You're a dollophead." Of course Merlin would take the route of avoiding the answer and instead trying to weave out by using that word which Arthur still didn't fully know what it meant. Apparently it meant 'King Arthur' , but how could something mean himself? "That's still not a word Merlin." "It's still two real words put together." That still didn't make it a word that made sense. "You're infuriating." "I may be that, sire, but at least I'm not dollophead." Again. Not a real word. -------------------- Dinner was good. That's what King Arthur would say. However, just Arthur would say that dinner was far from good. In fact, much better than good. He would say that it was his typical hunting supper. And that's what made it the best. As always, Merlin's cooking was on point, but Arthur would prefer to face the void of hell than voice that opinion aloud to Merlin. Arthur could, however, admit that it would be worth it for the smile that would contagiously spread over Merlin's features. His ocean blue eyes would sparkle slightly with an ethereal glint of gold. His ears would lift and look even bigger and goofier, making Merlin's whole face look even more otherworldly than it was before. His lips would quirk up and then part to reveal that massive and adorable smile of his. He realized he was staring at Merlin. Staring at his lips, he realized. There was an interesting tree over there. Most of its leaves were laid in disarray across its base. Leaves were interesting too. And so was Merlin. Wait, what? No, Merlin was his servant. No. Merlin was a servant. Merlin washed socks. Arthur couldn't think like that towards someone who washed socks. Socks were also interesting. Maybe Merlin could get him some new socks. Arthur really did need new socks. He could go to the market with Merlin and choose some. He would obviously only get the ones that had Merlin's approval. "So, princess, what are you thinking about?" he heard Gwaine whisper in his ear. "Merlin." Arthur was too busy staring at Merlin to notice to see Gwaine looking to Arthur, then to Merlin and then back to Arthur with a mischievous grin planted on his face. "Oh....... I see." Arthur furrowed his brows. "What?" asked a confused Arthur. "I knew already, princess." Gwaine's grin grew bigger. "Knew what?" Arthur tore his eyes away from Merlin and looked at Gwaine. He seemed to be getting excited and Arthur had no idea why. "I mean, it was quite obvious..." What was obvious. Arthur had never been obvious in his life. Why did Gwaine keep talking in riddles? "What the hell are you talking about Gwaine?" "Merlin." Why was Gwaine talking about Merlin? Gwaine rolled his eyes, "You are so oblivious, mate" then seeing Arthur's face become even more screwed up with confusion, he added, "It's not that hard to tell him you love him." What?- Oh. Ohhh. Standing up, Gwaine patted his shoulder and walked away, giving Arthur no chance to reply or retort on what Gwaine had just said. He didn't love Merlin, of course he didn't. That was just silly. -------------------- Arthur had offered to take first watch, even though he was tired. Well, he thought he was tired. He kept on thinking about what Gwaine had said and kept pondering on fantasies of living on a farm with Merlin or cuddling up with Merlin on a cold winter's night or even placing a crown on Merlin's head, declaring him his husband and then kissing the life out of him. Merlin would be a terrible husband and probably a terrible kisser. But Merlin could also be a great husband and a great kisser. Life could be very confusing at certain times and right now Arthur could relate to that statement. And of course, to make things even more complicated, Merlin was still awake and was walking over to him. "I can take watch if you want." Merlin offered. Arthur relaxed under the comforting heat that had just sat down next to him. Being close to Merlin was a familiar sensation to him and if he dared say it, he liked it. Arthur really wanted to cuddle into Merlin right now. The thought was tempting, but he didn't act upon it. "And what are you going to do when you see a group of bandits running towards you? Scream like a girl?" now that was what Arthur called a good retort. The sharp poke in the leg was unfair. "Merlin!" "You deserved it." "No I did not!" Arthur retaliated. "If you say so, sire." Cute sarcasm. Again. A short silence lay around like dust. Unforgotten but not wanted to be acted upon. Then Arthur remembered something. "You still didn't answer that question properly." "What question?" Merlin asked, looking confused. There were just sometimes Arthur had no idea if Merlin was acting dumb or not. "Does everyone hate me?" Arthur replied, trying again to not doubt his worthiness as King. Merlin's face melted into a pensive look and Arthur knew Merlin was going to mock him. However, Merlin's face sobered and a seriousness flashed over his features. His brows furrowed. "Of course not!" Merlin said, his voice deeper in tone and with a hint of threat. Merlin definitely wasn't joking and his offensive manner almost made Arthur think that this was personal to him. Arthur wanted to believe him. "Morgana does." Again, with a serious punch to his words, Merlin spoke "Morgana has no reason to hate you. You may be your father's son, but you're certainly not like him. Morgana has been blinded by hate and fear. She is more like Uther than you ever have been." It was a wonder how Merlin, out of all people, could speak like a King. However, self-doubt still lingered. Merlin could just be saying this to make him feel better. "How do I know you're not lying?" "Because it's my opinion. I have no say in what you should believe in. I am not lying because you deserve to know the truth." Of course. Merlin's loyalty was self explanatory. So was Merlin's lack of knowing his own worth and how much he mattered to Arthur. "Merlin, you've always had a say in what I should believe in." Arthur answered, trying to tell Merlin that he really should give himself more credit. "Not really." The selfless idiot really thought that he wasn't worth anything. "I wouldn't believe that for a second." Merlin didn't reply. And so Arthur asked the one question that had been drilling deeper into his head ever since he had laid a though on it: "What about you? Do you hate me?" "What do you think?" Merlin replied without hesitation, whilst his blue gem-like eyes relaxed into Arthur's with nothing but a softness that made Arthur want to melt into a puddle. Arthur had no idea what to do when Merlin looked at him like that, so he decided to answer back by conveying their usual banter in his voice. "How the hell the would I know?" Merlin's expression didn't waver. If it was possible to fall for someone even harder, that was exactly what Arthur was not trying to do, but he was someone seeming to fail rather miserably. "What would you want me to say?" asked Merlin, eyes becoming searching and contemplative. "I don't know. I suppose I would prefer you not to hate me." Arthur said honestly, letting a small smile tug at his lips. "You really are an idiot." sighed Merlin, and then shifted his weight to bump Arthur's shoulder with his own. They really were very, very close. "How?" "What ever made you think that I hate you?" Merlin wondered, with his eyebrows raised. "You have to put up with me." suggested Arthur. "You really think I hate having to put up with your antics and that turnip head of yours? I wouldn't be here if I did. Putting up with you, out of all people, is not as bad as it seems." was what Merlin seemed to blurt out. Was that a compliment or an insult? "Thanks..." "No, I mean it. There's a reason that I do what I do. Sometimes, it's to see you change into the king you're destined to be. Other times, it's to protect you. But most of all, it's to always be your friend and stay by your side... No matter what happens." Maybe that was a compliment. Things like this made Arthur happy. To know that Merlin, his best friend, would always be by his side, meant more to him than he would ever admit. Yet a part of him still fueled his doubt. He needed to make sure. "Always?" "Always." This time, Arthur truly let himself go within the calming waves and the starry sunset that played endlessly within the depths of Merlin's eyes. He felt his face mirror Merlin's and it was moments like this that he would never let go. He treasured them safely within his heart and so that night Arthur dreamt of waves rolling ever so slowly to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin never knows when to shut his mouth up. It’s sort of a problem. - When Arthur is finished, he is so red in the face that Merlin fears a little for his health but doesn’t dare to voice that because once Arthur is in a mood, Gods forbid that— “Are you alright, sire? Shall I call Gaius, you look like you’re going to explode. You know that your skin getting that red is not—“ “ Merlin !” Arthur screeches. Notes See the end of the work for notes Merlin throws Arthur a nasty look when he turned around, muttering under his breath about how if only Arthur knew of how he saved him ten minutes ago from that very dangerous, life threatening sorcerer he had no clue about—he’d be more grateful to him. And not take him for granted. But he can’t because that would mean he has to reveal that he has magic, which would lead to a whole conversation that Merlin is not at all ready for, and definitely end in him being executed which can’t happen. If he dies then, Arthur would definitely die in the next moments just after him because there would no one to save his arse from magical beasts and threats—which is awful, and terrible because he’s supposed to reunite Albion and bring back magic into the world and because if Arthur dies, then Uther would lose his only child and become even more ruthless and because Arthur is his friend and— Maybe, Merlin should have been paying more attention to where he was going. All his hard work at keeping his magic a secret is going to be useless, since he’s going to die right now. “Merlin!” Arthur shrieked, a furious expression on his face. Merlin shouldn’t laugh. He shouldn’t . He laughs anyway. Arthur looks utterly ridiculous with the pink paint splashed all of his face. “Sire,” Merlin sputters out through his laughter. “You’ve got a little something on your face,” “ Merlin ,” Arthur says, very calmly, smiling that smile that meant he isn’t pleased, at all, a twitch to his eyebrow. And Merlin knows that tone of voice, it was just before—ah, yes. There it is. The Object Of The Moment, the brush, hitting just where Merlin was. “Can you be any more of an idiot ?” Arthur shouts, and Merlin sighs, preparing himself for the long speech about his work and how he’s so incompetent. When Arthur is finished, he is so red in the face that Merlin fears a little for his health but doesn’t dare to voice that because once Arthur is in a mood, Gods forbid that— “Are you alright, sire? Shall I call Gaius, you look like you’re going to explode. You know that your skin getting that red is not—“ “ Merlin !” Arthur screeches, throwing more objects at him that Merlin can’t really define because he is too busy ducking away and running away. Okay, so maybe he should’ve not gotten Arthur more worked up but—if he didn’t, he wasn’t Merlin was he? It was just a part of the job that came with being Arthur’s servant—along with of course saving his royal arse all the time. Merlin blows a breath, seriously, he only has been running for a while now—why is he so tired. He can’t stop now, Arthur hot on his tail. Merlin skids down the hall, zooming around the people. Arthur’s voice getting alarmingly louder behind him. “Hello, what trouble are you up this fair moment?” A very familiar voice says, and Merlin's face splits into a grin as he glancesup to Gwaine running beside him. “I—“ Merlin starts which is just when Arthur screams his name again. And Gwaine bursts into laughter, doubling over from the force of it, thumping down on his shoulder very hard that he winces—knights honestly . “Oh Merlin, I knew there was a reason that I loved you.” Merlin grins wider—if that’s possible—and side steps a servant with a basket and takes a sharp turn left. “I heard that one before.” “What did you do?” Gwaine asks, eyes sparkling. And Merlin is about to reply right before they— smash to a wall. End Notes Merlin has no self-control bone in his body when it comes to Arthur. And I Love That. Also I was going to make this longer, but couldn’t think of how to—and thought, huh, wait, leaving like this is perfect because it really gives off that chaotic, dumb energy they all have. ...Also, I think this is my first Merlin fic that is NOT angsty, lol. And as always, thanks for reading! *grins* You’re a gem. ♥ ️ Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

“You’re an idiot,” Merlin says fondly. “But you love me,” Arthur replies, never doubting it for a second. --- Or, Arthur has an important question for Merlin on Christmas. Notes Sorry this is so unedited! I was just trying to finish it so I could get it out today. See the end of the work for more notes Merlin wakes up on Christmas to Arthur poking him in the face. He cracks an eye open, staring unimpressed up at Arthur for a second, who stares right back at him with a smug grin on his face. The audacity. On Christmas, of all times. “Really, Arthur?” Merlin asks, already resigned to his fate. Arthur is lucky he loves him, that’s all there is to say. “Yes, really, Merlin,” Arthur replies, “I have something for you. For Christmas.” “And it couldn’t wait for later?” “No, I think this should be a more private gift. It seemed more… us to do it like this.” Merlin sat up as Arthur turned to the drawer next to his bed, curious now. The next moment, Arthur turned around with a ring in hand, and Merlin was silent for a second, tears filling his eyes. He looked shocked, and was unable to do anything but just stare, alternating between Arthur and the ring. The ring was simple, but beautiful, and everything Merlin wanted. “Marry me, Merlin,” Arthur says simply. He never was one for words, and Merlin didn’t need a big speech to convince him to marry Arthur. He would’ve answered yes even if Arthur had proposed with a ring pop, to be quite honest. He does have one thing holding him back, though. “What about your father, Arthur? He’s going to kill you!” Merlin says when he snaps out of the shock, even though he looked like it would kill him to say no to Arthur. “Forget my father. I want to marry you, and damn the consequences,” Arthur says, knowing he would not regret this no matter what his father did. He knows Morgana will be right by his side too, just like she was when he made this decision. Merlin will be there too, forever now, and his support is more valuable than anything. Loving Merlin is worth everything. “You’re an idiot,” Merlin says fondly. “But you love me,” Arthur replies, never doubting it for a second. “I do,” Merlin says, then nods, “Yes, Arthur. I’ll marry you.” Just for a moment, Merlin wraps himself back around Arthur, and they enjoy the happiness they have right now. Things would be difficult in the coming days, with Uther and the consequences of having him as a father in general, but for now they have each other and that was enough. It would always be enough. End Notes I hope you enjoyed! This story changed so many times while I was writing it, so if anything seems out of place I missed a bit of the last version lmao. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merthur Week Day 1: “You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.” + Fluff Arthur watched with fond amusement as Merlin’s arms pinwheeled and he tripped face-first into the snow. Arthur watched with fond amusement as Merlin’s arms pinwheeled and he tripped face-first into the snow. Merlin went down in a flail of limbs and Arthur laughed at the sight. Merlin swore through a face full of snow and Arthur gracefully made his way over to his husband. It was in times like this that Arthur was struck by just how lucky he was to have Merlin by his side, advising him on anything and everything. They ruled together, and their council was made up of the round table; which had long since expanded to include more friends and trusted allies. “Show off.” Merlin scoffed, and Arthur grinned openly as he brushed the snow from Merlin’s hair and scarf. “You’re an idiot,” Arthur said fondly, “it’s not that hard to stay upright!” “But—” Merlin protested, then seeing Arthur’s raised eyebrow—Gaius was a skilled teacher— swiftly changed tracks, “—you love me anyway.” Arthur sighed, and there was so much longing in that one sigh that Merlin kissed him on the nose. Arthur cursed his pale skin as he always blushed darkly whenever Merlin did anything like that, “I do, and it’s a true shame.” Merlin laughed and Arthur noted with no small amount of pride that people turned and smiled at hearing him. Arthur met eyes with Gwen and Morgana—both bundled up in thick cloaks and openly holding hands; Arthur noted that Morgana had conveniently forgotten her gloves in favour of showing off her glittering ring. “You’re soft, Arthur Pendragon.” Merlin said, and Arthur could hear his grin, “Kinghood has turned you into a sap.” “Well being Court Sorcerer has done the same to you, Merlin Pendragon,” Arthur responded and Merlin laughed again. He was truly blessed, Arthur thought, to have such a wonderful husband for his very own. Even if he did fall over in the snow and end up with a bad cold. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merthur Week 2020 Day 4 - "What are you hiding Merlin?" + fun Arthur hasn't seen Merlin all day. He decides to see what's going on. Arthur was getting a little frustrated. So far that morning, Merlin had left him to wake up late, find his own breakfast and find another servant to help him put his armour on for practise. As it neared lunchtime, he decided he’d had enough and determinedly stormed through the castle to Gaius’ chambers in search of his incompetant manservant. Gaius wasn’t around, so Arthur approached the door to Merlin’s bedroom without resistance. He knocked with a heavy fist. “Yes?” Merlin’s muffled voice called from inside. “Merlin, I want to see you.” There was a curse and the sound of something with significant weight dropping to the floor, before Merlin poked his head around the crack he’d opened in his door. Arthur stood where he was, arms crossed at his chest, eyebrow raised and weight rested on one hip. “Merlin.” “Arthur.” “Care to tell me where you’ve been for, oh I don’t know, the whole morning?” Merlin bit his lip, and Arthur really wished he could stop his eyes from being drawn to that movement. “Project. Very important one,” Merlin eventually replied, seeming nervous and as though he was going to retreat back into his room at any moment. “For Gaius.” “Really?” Arthur asked, getting a frantic nod. “You’re a very bad liar, Merlin. You know that, don’t you?” “I am not,” Merlin insisted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-” He stepped back and made to close the door, not seeing that Arthur had wedged his foot between the door and its frame, rendering any closure attempts useless. “Merlin, Merlin,” he tutted, a teasing smirk on his lips. “What are you hiding, Merlin?” “Arthur-” Merlin began to protest, before being cut off by the prince overpowering his hold on the door. Both young men froze. Nervously, Merlin wrung his hands together. In the middle of his bed was a band of gold. “Merlin, what’s this?” Arthur quietly asked. “Birthday present,” Merlin responded in a whisper, not meeting Arthur’s eyes. “For you.” He swallowed. “It’s not finished.” Arthur didn’t move. Neither did Merlin. “You can look at it properly if you want. Now you’ve seen it.” Merlin said. For a long moment, Arthur didn’t take his eyes off Merlin, before carefully approaching and sitting on the edge of Merlin’s bed. He took the small-ish band into his hand. “A bracelet?” Merlin nodded in confirmation. He hoped Arthur wouldn’t sense the magic coursing through it. “Did you do the engraving yourself?” Arthur asked, rubbing his thumb over the patterns on the surface of the metal. Merlin nodded again. When he finally looked up from the ground, he found Arthur standing two inches from him with a look in his eyes that he couldn’t entirely place. “It’s… it’s beautiful Merlin.” Arthur whispered in awe. Timidly, Merlin smiled. “Thank you.” Something tense but mildly pleasant passed between them, before Arthur took hold of Merlin’s hand and placed the bracelet into his palm. “Can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.” he whispered into his manservant’s ear, before vanishing from the room. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Happy(?) anniversary!!
 This year, I decided to recreate one of the first vids I uploaded 8 years ago (8 years wow) in honor of the finale. Can't believe it's been that long since it ended lol it still haunts me every Christmas... vc & ac: mine song used: Stay With Me (Cover) - HeyHiHello Stay safe, everyone! ❤ Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

They stood there, Merlin too scared to say anything, and Arthur simmering with betrayal and anger and above all, hurt. "If-" Merlin's voice broke, he couldn't understand why Arthur was being so cold and emotionless. "If you do love me, then- then I think you should know that- that I love you. Too. I love you." "Got any other lies to tell me?" Merthur Week 2020 Day 5: “Any other lies left to tell me?” + Angst Notes helloooooOOOOOO i'm in a bit of a weird headspace it is dead o clock in the night i need sleep and my phone is broken and the song i'm listening to is beautiful and the story i just wrote took me on a rollercoaster and hopefully will do the same for you enjoyyyyyyyy See the end of the work for more notes Merlin took a quick look around, and whispered a spell that led to his room warming up immediately. He closed his eyes and stretched out on his bed, basking in the new warmth of his room. Behind him, partially hidden by Merlin's door, a horrified Arthur crept slowly away. ~~~ Merlin entered Arthur's room after he finished his chores for the day, like he had been doing for the past month. Arthur was standing at his window, and even in the half-darkness, Merlin could make out the line of tension in his shoulders. "Arthur?" he asked softly. "What's wrong?" No answer. "Arthur?" Merlin tried again. "Did something happen?" Arthur turned around, and Merlin saw the raw sadness in his eyes before it was wiped away by a cold, stone mask. "Did something happen." Arthur chuckled humorlessly, and held out his fist. In it, he was clutching a ring. "My mother's," he said, and his voice was filled with heartbreak. "I was going to tell you I love you today, and give you this ring." "You love me?" Merlin's voice was filled with hope. All this time, he thought his feelings were unrequited and that Arthur would never see him as anything but a servant, but Arthur was planning to tell him that he loved him? Maybe he was more than a servant to Arthur. Arthur didn't reply. "Arthur-" Merlin took a step forward, making to lay a hand on Arthur's arm. Arthur flinched away. Merlin froze, hurt crossing his features. They stood there, Merlin too scared to say anything, and Arthur simmering with betrayal and anger and above all, hurt. "If-" Merlin's voice broke, he couldn't understand why Arthur was being so cold and emotionless. "If you do love me, then- then I think you should know that- that I love you. Too. I love you." "Got any other lies to tell me?" "I- what? No, I'm not lying. I love you, Arthur, please, believe me." Merlin was in shock, because how could Arthur think that he didn't love him? Merlin would always love Arthur, no matter what. Surely Arthur had to know that? Arthur scoffed. "I can't trust a word that comes out of your mouth, Merlin." Merlin's heart shattered at the statement. "What? Why? Why not, what happened , Arthur? What aren't you telling me?" "I know," Arthur whispered. "I know about your magic." His voice was broken, like he was barely keeping it together, and Merlin ached to gather Arthur into his arms and wipe that terrible, broken expression of his face. But he couldn't, because Merlin was breaking inside as well. Arthur knew . About his magic . He staggered back, and the back of his knees hit Arthur's bed and Merlin collapsed on it. Arthur stood stone still, revealing no emotions. "Why did you never tell me?" Arthur asked. His voice was tiny and insecure, like he was genuinely wondering why Merlin hadn't told him. "I-" Merlin couldn't find his voice, because he had to know something first. "Are you going to kill me?" Arthur's eyes widened almost comically. "What? No! How could you even think that, Merlin? I love you, obviously I'm not going to kill you!" Merlin let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing and the lines on his forehead disappearing. He sunk into the bed, and began to cry. Awkwardly, Arthur sat down next to Merlin and touched his back. He thought back to what Morgana would do to him when he was upset, and began to hum a song. It was off-tune, and Arthur kept pausing as he forget the melody, but the sentiment behind it was enough. Merlin's tears slowed down and after a minute, stopped completely. "I'm sorry," he said, hiccuping. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -" Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's knee; a light touch meant to comfort. "Are- are you feeling-" Arthur couldn't think of a word, because he knew better than to ask if Merlin was okay . Merlin nodded his head mutely. "Yeah." Arthur removed his hand from Merlin's back, and the two men sat silently in the moonlight. "I never told you because I didn't want to lose you," Merlin said. His voice was quiet, but it held determination. "I didn't want you to look at me different, like I was someone else entirely when I was still just Merlin." Arthur didn't say anything. "And I was scared," Merlin added. Arthur blinked, he hadn't expected Merlin to say that. "Scared? Whatever for?" Merlin chuckled. "Sorcerers are- feared, to say the least, in Camelot. And a sorcerer killed your father. Sorcery harmed you and the ones you care about so much, I thought you would never be able to see the good side of it." "Were you ever going to tell me?" "Course I was! I was just going to introduce you to the good parts of sorcery first." Arthur sighed. "I was angry, at first. Angry that you didn't trust me, angry that you were a sorcerer , and-" Arthur hesitated. "Angry at myself that I hadn't done more to win your trust." Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur held up a hand, looking every bit the king he was. "Wait," he said. "I want to say my part first." Merlin nodded. "Now, I'm- I'm- well, I don't know what I am. Or what I'm feeling. But I know one thing for certain. Two things, actually."Arthur looked Merlin right in the eye, unconsciously tightening his grip on Merlin's knee. "One, if you have magic, then magic can't be all evil. Two, um, I still love you. You having magic doesn't change that, and it never would have. You will always be just you to me, Merlin." Merlin let his tears spring back into his eyes. Arthur smiled tiredly. "We can discuss your magic in detail later. I just want to sleep now." Merlin nodded fervently. "Yes, of course. I'll go, and should I come tomorrow? Or maybe I shouldn't, maybe you need more space, maybe you won't want to see me for a few days, should I-" Arthur cut off Merlin. "Stay," he whispered. "Please." Merlin did, and he stayed for many nights after. End Notes whew, what a ride! i hope you enjoyed reading it *hehe* as much i *enjoyed* writing it :D visit me on my tumblr @i-love-books-and-so-do-you Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

“What are you hiding Merlin?” Arthur asked with raised eyebrows, though he was unable to stop the slight smirk on his face. Merlin jumped slightly as he turned around, looking surprised to find Arthur there. “What? Why would I be hiding anything?” Merlin replied as casually as he could, but Arthur knew him far too well to believe that. --- Day 4 of merthurweek2020, “What are you hiding Merlin?” + Fun Notes See the end of the work for notes The sun was bright outside, the perfect summer's day as Arthur made his way to the training grounds. Merlin was nowhere to be found, as usual, but Arthur didn't even mind that much today. That was, of course, until he found Merlin creeping around quite suspiciously in one of the corridors. Then he minded much more about what his servant was doing. “What are you hiding Merlin?” Arthur asked with raised eyebrows, though he was unable to stop the slight smirk on his face. Merlin jumped slightly as he turned around, looking surprised to find Arthur there. “What? Why would I be hiding anything?” Merlin replied as casually as he could, but Arthur knew him far too well to believe that. “Really? Then you won’t mind if-” Arthur began, stepping towards him, but was cut off unexpectedly as Merlin laughed and started running from him. Arthur let out a surprised laugh before running after him, training all but forgotten now. This felt like a challenge, and Arthur wasn’t going to let Merlin win so easily. The two of them raced through the halls, Arthur following the sound of Merlin’s laughing that he couldn’t seem to get under control. They left behind a trail of bewildered servants and knights, but neither really cared enough to stop. Truly, everyone should be used to these kinds of things by now with Merlin around. Arthur finally cornered Merlin in a hallway that ended with a locked door, and grinned in his apparent victory. “Well, well, well,” Arthur said, just to get a rise out of Merlin. “The great Arthur Pendragon, unable to outrun a simple servant,” Merlin shot back without missing a beat, grinning just as widely as Arthur, “if I wouldn’t have gotten trapped you never would have caught me.” “I would’ve caught up eventually!” You just got a head start.” Arthur said, outraged at such a suggestion. “Well don’t be upset by it, you are getting on in years a bit…” Merlin trailed off, the teasing obvious in his voice. “Oh, I’ll show you old!” Merlin turned to try and run from Arthur, the look in Arthur’s eyes making him forget he was trapped. Arthur ran up behind him and grabbed him, spinning him back around. Merlin’s breath caught for a moment at the way Arthur’s hair shone in the sudden sunlight from the window next to them. It was like his hair was made from gold, and it was a mesmerizing effect. They were so close together that he could feel Arthur's breath on his face, but he didn't move back. Arthur seemed to sense the change of mood, and the grin on his face softened. He didn't give up, though. “What are you hiding Merlin,” Arthur asked, deliberately making his voice lower. “You really want to know?” Merlin murmured, reaching up to run a hand through Arthur's hair. He leaned closer to Arthur, and felt the moment Arthur let his guard down. Merlin whispered in his ear, “Then you’ll have to catch me.” Arthur stood there dumbstruck as Merlin took off laughing again, unable to process that Merlin had tricked him so easily. “Merlin!” He shouted, chasing after him. The game was on. End Notes Merlin was distracting Arthur because they were planning a surprise party for him! I can write the surprise party for day 6 if anyone is interested

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin leaned against the railing, forcing Arthur to meet his gaze. “Don’t lie to me, Arthur.” “Right. That’s your job, isn’t it?” The words left Arthur’s mouth before he considered the damage it would cause. Before he considered the fight he was probably starting. Merlin tensed immediately, his eyes going dark. “Excuse me?” (aka how arthur finds out the truth about his mother’s death) Notes Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BCC (makes sense if you read the series in order) See the end of the work for more notes “Morgause is lying! She's an enchantress. She tricked you. That was not your mother you saw. That was an illusion. Everything your mother said to you, those were Morgause's words.” - Merlin to Arthur Arthur dropped his head back, thudding against the thick back of his throne. Merlin and Gwen were crowded in the corner of the throne room, whispering to each other. Arthur watched as Merlin’s eyes twinkled with mischief and Gwen’s cheeks flushed red. The two glanced over at the knights— Lancelot, Arthur realized— and Merlin nudged Gwen. Lancelot, as if sensing their attention, glanced up and met Gwen’s gaze. He offered her a small smile and Gwen returned it, her eyes fond. Arthur ached at the sight. He was happy for them. Truly. But something about the innocent starting of something more was nostalgic. He missed when Merlin and he were just starting out. When there were just flirty touches and shared smiles and blushing cheeks. It seemed like in the past few weeks a void had expanded between them and whenever they dared to cross, it ended in nothing but fights. Arthur hadn’t truly felt like he could relax around Merlin. It was stupid, really. Merlin had a right to his privacy and didn’t owe Arthur any explanations but the thought of Merlin meeting his gaze and just lying sent something cold curling in his chest. He refocused his gaze and found that Merlin was watching him. His eyes filled with worry. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to the left. Arthur hastily realized that he must have been showing his emotions and wiped his face blank. Offering a reassuring smile, he turned back to the court members who were discussing something Arthur had no idea about before him. He didn’t dare look back at Merlin. Arthur knew that Merlin knew him better than anyone. And that Merlin knew that the smile was fake. And honestly, Arthur wasn’t in the mood to talk to Merlin about it. He’d get over it. He always did. “What’s wrong?” Arthur stifled a curse under his breath. He had escaped to the highest towers of the castle in the hopes that no one would bother him. He should’ve known Merlin never took any social cues. “Nothing.” Merlin leaned against the railing, forcing Arthur to meet his gaze. “Don’t lie to me, Arthur.” “Right. That’s your job, isn’t it?” The words left Arthur’s mouth before he considered the damage it would cause. Before he considered the fight he was probably starting. Merlin tensed immediately, his eyes going dark. “Excuse me?” Arthur pressed his lips together, looking away. Letting out a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his heart rate. “Arthur.” Merlin stepped forward, placing a hand on Arthur’s bicep. Arthur jerked away. “Don’t–don’t do this. Look, I’m not in the mood.” “In the mood for what? Arthur, what is wrong?” Merlin hesitated, like he was planning on touching Arthur again but then moved back. “Is this about tomorrow? I already cleared your schedule so you can relax.” “Don’t. I have work to do. I never asked you to clear my schedule.” Arthur sniped, uncaring about the way Merlin flinched at his harsh tone. “You did last year. And the year before that. You told me that—” “That what?” Arthur whirled on Merlin. “Since when do you even listen to what I have to say?” Merlin moved back, furrowing his eyebrows. He stared at Arthur for a moment before shaking his head. “Alright. You clearly need some rest. George will look after you. I promised Gwen I’d help her with something before dinner. We’ll talk later, yeah? I’m not talking to you when you’re like this.” Arthur scoffed. “Help Gwen with something?” Merlin turned away. “Yeah, Arthur. I’ll see you after dinner. Maybe you can calm down and tell me what’s wrong by then.” Merlin left before Arthur could even think of a response. Arthur groaned and turned back on his heel to look over the railing. From this viewpoint, he could see the bustling street of the lower town as people packed up their shops and headed home to their families. His eyes caught on a couple that was packing up the pastry shop. He watched as the two joked and laughed. And even though Arthur couldn’t hear them, their laughter echoed through his mind. A taunting reminder of what he and Merlin had once been. “Look, it’s nothing.” Merlin scoffed. “Are you serious right now? Did you see the way Lancelot looked at you today? Please, he had literal heart eyes.” Gwen rolled her eyes, snatching up her sewing kit so she could mend the laundry. “He did not. He sees me as a little sister or something.” “If that was the case, I feel bad for all sisters out there. Does Elyan look at you like that?” “Ok, first of all, ew. Second of all, I’m older than Elyan so it doesn’t count.” Merlin quickly finished off his knot and re-threading the yarn. “Same concept. Lancelot’s been in love with you for as long as I can remember. He’s way too noble to make the first move so talk to him.” Gwen shot Merlin a look. “Really? You’re giving me relationship advice? The same guy who came moaning to me that Arthur only sees him as a servant and nothing more? You’re kidding.” “Oh, don’t even. Arthur’s emotionally constipated so you can’t blame me.” Merlin looked down, trying to swell the bitterness in his chest. “Not when it comes to you. Have you seen the way he acts around you? Now that is the definition of ‘literal heart eyes’. Not whatever Lancelot’s doing,” Gwen said, tossing the mended shirt into the laundry basket. Merlin hummed in response, holding up the shirt. “It’s not that bad, right?” Gwen looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you want the entire court to see his lower back, no. Trust me, Merlin. No one wants to see that.” Merlin wrinkled his nose, flopping onto his back. “I much prefer washing clothes over mending them. Jesus, do these people work in a tornado?” Gwen shoved Merlin with her foot. “Get up. It’s not like you have anything better to do. We both know that you don’t get any work done around Arthur.” Merlin groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Right.” Gwen paused, studying Merlin. “Oh no. Did something happen between you two?” Merlin jerked up. “Did something? I don’t know, Gwen. Everything is just weird. I don’t know if it’s because his birthday’s coming up and with his mother and all but he’s been so much more snappy at me.” Gwen pursed her lips, looking down. “Where is he now?” Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s supposed to be writing his speech or something and I told George to look after him—” “He’s with George?” “Um, yeah?” Gwen stared at Merlin. “What is wrong with you? What are you still doing here?” Merlin scratched his jaw. “I’m helping you, remember? I don’t see what the problem is. I’ll talk to him after dinner and—” Gwen snatched the clothes from Merlin’s hand. “Oh my god. Get out. Poor George. Arthur’s going to kill him. Go.” “Go? Come on, Gwen. I said that I would help.” Merlin argued, stealing the clothes back. “You say one more word and I might think that you’re making excuses to avoid Arthur. Come on, Merlin. He’s obviously down with his birthday tomorrow and he needs you.” Merlin sighed. “He doesn’t need me, Gwen. He pushes me away and—” Gwen glared at Merlin. “Do you two never actually sit down and talk?” She leaned over and pushed Merlin away. “Go to him. If anyone can cheer Arthur up, it’s you. The last thing he needs is to be away from you. Go to him.” Merlin hesitated. “Gwen—” “I won’t ask you again. I’m almost done here anyway. Go, Merlin.” Gwen scrunched up her face and made a split-second decision. “If you go to Arthur right now, I’ll ask Lancelot out tomorrow.” Merlin froze. “Shut up. Are you serious?” Gwen laughed. “Get out.” Merlin scrambled up. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving. Don’t back out, okay? The man loves you.” Gwen rolled her eyes. “I hope so.” Merlin winked and slipped out. Gwen scoffed and picked up the shirt again. How the two managed to stay together astounded Gwen. She only hoped that she and Lancelot could be as happy as the royal couple. Arthur was genuinely about to throw George out of his window when the door slammed open revealing Merlin. He stalked forward and tugged at George’s jacket. “Thanks, George. You can go know.” George, who was in the middle of moving Arthur’s armor into the chest at the foot of his bed, only glared at Merlin. If Arthur was being honest, after so many years of Merlin carelessly tossing his armor to the ground, he’d forgotten that there was an actual place for it. “Give me a minute, Merlin. Do you ever put his Majesty’s armor in the right place? It—” Merlin waved George off, taking the armor. “No. And if Arthur has a problem, he’ll sack me. Get out, George.” George opened his mouth, probably to complain again but Arthur was at the end of his line. “Oh, for god’s sake, George. Get out. Merlin can take it from here.” George frowned, but let Merlin take the rest of the armor. George gave a stiff bow before turning on his heel and storming out. Merlin dumped the rest of the armor inside and shut the chest, seemingly unbothered about the fact that it didn’t close properly. “I cannot believe you, Merlin.” Arthur groaned. “You left me with George. George. I thought you were joking. I suffered through his stupid brass jokes for the past hour.” Merlin only glared at Arthur. “Serves you right. We need to talk.” Arthur snorted. “Do we? I thought you didn’t want to talk to me when I’m like this.” “I really don’t but I’m getting sick and tired of Gwen and Lancelot and their stupid looks and unresolved romantic tension so I’m here.” Merlin snapped. Arthur blinked. “What?” “Nothing.” Merlin made his way to Arthur’s bed and threw himself on top of it. The two fell silent. After what felt like an eternity, Merlin spoke up again. “Do you still want me to clear your schedule tomorrow? Because if you’re that desperate for it, I’ll be more than happy to have the meeting in the morning.” Arthur sat down at the edge of his bed. “Leave it. I’ll take the day off.” Arthur watched as Merlin hummed, letting his eyes fall shut. His long eyelashes were prominent against his pale cheekbones and Arthur was instantly jealous of how quickly Merlin seemed to relax and relieve tension. Or perhaps, Merlin was simply better at hiding it than Arthur. Merlin patted the space next to him. “Lie down. You look like a startled deer sitting like that.” “You can’t even see me.” Arthur rolled his eyes but crawled over to curl up on the bed beside Merlin. “I know you, Arthur. Let me ask. Is this the type of situation where you mourn the day before rather than the day of or is there something else bothering you?” “Who the hell mourns the day before?” Merlin rolled onto his side, facing Arthur. “I do. Sometimes, at least. It’s the tension of knowing that the anniversary of something is coming up and it pulls you down. You usually don’t mourn for a day, you know. It’s just that general time.” “You seem to know a lot. Lost a lot of people, yeah?” Arthur muttered. Merlin paused, thinking. “Not much.” “No? I mean, you lost your father, your childhood friend, your girlfriend. That’s no small number.” Merlin internally cursed. He had forgotten that Arthur knew about that. It was scary in a way. That Merlin had gotten so used to keeping it from him he had forgotten that Arthur now knew. “I guess. At least I knew them all. You never met your mother.” Arthur sighed. “You knew your father for just a couple of days, right? You have no idea what I would give to have just a day with her. To know what her voice sounded like. What she looked like.” “You don’t know what she looks like? There were no paintings of her?” Arthur chewed on his lip, thinking. “My father never talked about her. Now that I think about it, I did see her when we went after Morgouse. Even though her words were lies, I did see her. Hear her. Even if it was just for a few minutes.” Merlin remembered that day. He could still remember the way Arthur had his sword to Uther’s neck and if Merlin had just stayed quiet then— He inhaled sharply. He did the right thing. Arthur never would’ve forgiven himself had he killed his own father. But he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened had he let it happen. Had Arthur realized that Uther was wrong and that magic was innocent. That Uther killed his mother, not magic. Oh, how Merlin ached to just tell Arthur everything. “Merlin.” Merlin jerked at Arthur’s voice. Arthur had rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows. His gaze was furrowed and worried. “What are you hiding?” Merlin dropped back onto his back. “I’m not hiding anything. I was just thinking.” Arthur’s gaze burned holes into his head and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. And not in a good way. Arthur leaned closer. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice was nothing but a harsh breath and Merlin shivered. This wasn’t the first time Merlin had lied to Arthur. Usually, he bought his flimsy excuses without a second thought but right now, Arthur’s gaze seemed to bore into his soul and Merlin felt more exposed than ever. “What?” That’s your job, isn’t it? Arthur pushed himself up. “Don’t. Don’t do this. You wanted to talk, let’s talk. What are you hiding?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur. What could I possibly be hiding?” Merlin snapped. Arthur’s gaze faltered. “You-you’re keeping something from me. What were you just thinking about?” “I was just thinking about that day. What are you talking about?” Merlin asked, praying to all the gods that Arthur wouldn’t press further. He really didn’t feel like explaining everything to Arthur. Would it help? Merlin thought back to Arthur’s words from all those days ago. After everything he has done, do you believe he deserves to live? He executes those who use magic, and yet he has used it himself. You have caused so much suffering and pain. I will put an end to that. Merlin blinked back sudden tears. It was everything Merlin had wanted to hear. All Merlin had ever wished for was Arthur to realize that Uther was wrong and that magic was innocent. And what had Merlin done? He lied. And forced Arthur to hate him and everyone like him once more. Arthur stared at him for a moment and then pulled back. “Oh. Ok, right. I’m sorry. I just thought —” “Morgouse was telling the truth.” Merlin blurted out, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop it. Arthur blinked, the words washing over him, but not really registering in his mind. “What?” Merlin backed away, slipping off the bed. “Oh shit. What is wrong with me?” “Morgouse was what?” Arthur stepped forward. Merlin let out a sigh and faced Arthur. “Ok, listen. Um, I was going to tell you. I was. But you did hear your mother’s words. That wasn’t an illusion.” Arthur stared, trying to wrap his mind around what Merlin was saying but he felt like he’d been spinning in circles and the entire world was about to topple sideways. “It wasn’t an illusion.” Merlin winced. “No. Uther desperately wanted a child and sought out the use of magic to do it. He knew that it would require a life. A life for a life. But he did it anyway and so you were born of magic. And in return, your mother was taken.” Arthur backed away. “No. No. No. What—” “It might have been magic that took your mother but it was the same magic that brought you to life. Uther needed an heir and he might not have consciously done it, but he sacrificed your mother in the process.” “Shut up. Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur growled, his breath coming in quick pants. Merlin stepped forward. “Arthur—” “Don’t. Don’t touch me. Are you serious? Morgouse wasn’t the liar. You were.” “I was only trying to help, Arthur. You were going to kill your father. I wasn’t going to—” A sudden wave of anger crashed over Arthur. “So what if I was? Who the hell gave you the right to stop me? Who gave you the right to make that decision for me?” “Come on, Arthur.” Merlin pleaded. “You wouldn’t have wanted your reign to based off of patricide. You never would’ve forgiven yourself.” Arthur scoffed. “Oh, don’t act like you know shit about me. That was my mother. You really believe that Uther deserved to live?” “It’s not a matter of whether he deserved to live or not. He’s still your father.” “He killed my mother. And you stopped me from killing him. You had no right. You–” Arthur broke off, frustrated beyond belief. Merlin cautiously approached Arthur. “I’m sorry. I had to do something.” Arthur swallowed roughly. “Ok fine. I get it. But why the hell didn’t you tell me afterward. When I wasn’t as prone to killing my father. It’s been years, Merlin.” “I know. I know. I just- I wanted—” Merlin stuttered through his reply. Arthur pressed his palm to his forehead, trying to take in even breathes. “You know better than anyone how it feels to grow up without a parent. You know how much I wanted to meet my mother and talk to her. And instead, you forced me to believe that the one time I actually saw her, it was a lie?” “That was never my intention, Arthur.” Arthur snorted loudly and pushed away from Merlin. “I don’t give a shit about your intentions, Merlin. That was my mother. You had no right to do what you did. Do you know how many lives could’ve been saved? How many sorcerers that my father murdered to try and forget about his own sins? How many innocent people I murdered becuase I foolishly believed him?” Merlin moved to wipe the tears that were building up in his eyes. His hands went to clutch at his hair. “I—you don’t understand. I had to. That was never the way things were supposed to be. You can’t rush things and make decisions that you know nothing about. Uther, as terrible as he was, taught you valuable lessons.” “Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Are you trying to defend yourself right now?” Arthur snarled. “No. I’m not trying to do anything. I’m sorry that I never told you. I was only doing what I thought was best for you.” “Yeah, that’s your problem, Merlin. You don’t know what’s best for me. Jesus, you’re my best friend. You’re my- my lover. You don’t get to make every decision for me. I’m the king. Not you.” “I know that. You’re my king and I respect and follow you–” Merlin started. “Then don’t lie to me. Don’t make all these stupid decisions without me because you think you know what’s best for me. I don’t care if you don’t tell me about your dead girlfriend or some other private crap but this affects the kingdom. This affects me. You cannot keep it from me.” Merlin stepped back. “You don’t care?” “Don’t. Don’t try to turn this around. You know exactly what I mean. This is what I’m talking about when I say that there’s King Arthur and there’s just Arthur. You told just Arthur about things that matter to you. But you have to also tell King Arthur about things that matter to the kingdom.” “Didn’t we have this conversation before? I tell you everything that you need to know—” “No, you don’t. What about this is so hard for you to understand. You didn’t tell me about Morgana or the stupid dragon or my mother, what else are you keeping from me?” Arthur snapped. Merlin fell silent, just staring at Arthur. His eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears that sent a pang through Arthur’s heart. Arthur moved forward and grabbed Merlin’s hands. “Merlin. You can trust me. I know that you always have my best intentions at heart. I do. But you have to understand. You need to talk to me. I have to know what’s going on in my own kingdom. I can’t do that if you keep things like this from me.” Merlin sniffled and looked away. “I know.” “Do you?” Arthur asked. “Look at me. Don’t turn your head. You’re probably the only person in the kingdom who has more secrets about Camelot than me. There’s no reason for you to not tell me. If you have my best intentions, then what’s the harm?” Merlin met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just—” Merlin broke off, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. “That trust has to go both ways, yeah? I know I should’ve told you about your mother. I guess I didn’t think it was that important for you to know.” “I don't care how insignificant it might feel. I want you to tell me.” “I will,” Merlin promised. “But you have to trust that I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” “That’s not what I—” “I’ll tell you everything. Just trust me.” Arthur laughed bitterly. “I feel like every time we fight, we always come to the same conclusion. I have to trust you. You’re right, that trust goes both ways. This is not a one-way street.” “No.” Merlin agreed. “I trust you with my life. You know that.” “I know. But do you trust me with anything else?” Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Arthur pulled away. “Nothing. I’m going to get some rest, Merlin.” “Of course. Let me—” Arthur pushed Merlin away. “That’s okay. I want to sleep alone tonight.” Merlin frowned. “Why?” “No reason. You can go accompany Gauis for the night, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow.” “But—” Merlin started to protest. Arthur shoved Merlin out the door. “Go, Merlin. Good night.” And before Merlin could reply, Arthur shut the door. He waited until he heard Merlin's footsteps walk away before he broke. A loud sob escaping his throat. He clasped a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle them. His own blood roared in his ears and it seemed like all the air was sucked from the room, leaving Arthur to gasp for something that wasn’t there. Arthur could still remember that day like it was yesterday. The way he felt when his mother had curled up against him. The betrayed coursing through his veins when she looked into his eyes and told him that Uther had killed her. The stupid, guilty face of his father when Arthur confronted him. And Arthur could still remember the way the doors had burst open and Merlin had run inside. Morgouse was lying. All the anger suddenly drained from him and his knees buckled, causing him to crash to the ground with a thud. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough for colors to burst behind his eyelids. And he cried and cried and let himself fill the room with the foolish drops of tears that seemed to waterfall down his cheeks. And when he woke up the next morning, he was still laying against the door, the sun barley peeking over the horizon. He stood up shakily and wiped the dried tears from his face. And when a knock sounded on the door, George’s voice calling through, Arthur was never more relieved to not hear Merlin. --0-o-0-- End Notes Healthy Holidays! I hope you enjoyed this (or not because it wasn't supposed to be fun) <3 Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merthur Week 2020 Day 7 - Free Day + Magic Reveal Arthur pieces together the past and tries to get Merlin to understand. Notes That summary is AWFUL! Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing the fics for this week! Hope y'all enjoyed them as well! The room was silent. Eerily silent. Arthur stood staring at a shaking and terrified Merlin, trying to wrap his head around what had happened. Magic? Merlin? All those times Merlin had been accused of it and never denied it, or those few times that he’d flat out admitted his guilt to save someone accused in his place. Each time, what was it Arthur had said? “Surely not Merlin ”, “he has no idea what he’s saying”, and so many other things. But his lack of denial made sense now. Now that Merlin was- He finally paid attention to Merlin. He was curled into himself on the ground, sobbing. Arthur felt his heart stop. It wasn’t right. Merlin was happy, and enthusiastic, and ready to defend himself and put Arthur in his place, not… not petrified to tears. “Merlin.” he murmured. “Don’t burn me. You can do anything to me, but please don’t burn me.” Merlin begged through tears. Arthur’s heart broke. This was what the law - what his father’s law - did to people, he realised. “I won’t. Merlin, I promise I won’t.” he promised, crouching in front of his friend. “All of it was for you. Always for you.” Merlin babbled. “Merlin, I’m not going to have you killed. I couldn’t bear to even hurt you.” It was as though Merlin couldn’t hear him. Knowing better than to touch him, Arthur shuffled to sit next to Merlin and face forward. That was how they sat for a long while - Arthur didn’t know how long - until Merlin shifted. “Why are you still here?” Merlin quietly asked. “Well. I couldn’t leave you, especially when you thought I was going to…” Arthur made some vague gestures with his hand so he didn’t have to say it. “You should be so mad.” “I’m a bit upset that you never told me, but I know why.” Arthur turned to face Merlin. “Merlin, no matter what happens, you are safe. Nothing will happen to you as long as I’m around, I promise.” Wide eyes met his. “Really? You’d really-?” “You’re an idiot if you don’t think I’d do anything to keep you safe.” Arthur told him, lightly. Hesitantly, Merlin laced his fingers with Arthur’s. Arthur gave his hand a protective squeeze, causing Merlin to give him a soft smile. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin manages to reach Camlann before the battle has begun. Deciding the only way to save Arthur's life and defy destiny is to keep Arthur out of battle, Merlin choses to take on the Saxons alone, trusting that his magic would be strong enough to defeat an entire army. Arthur had been sleeping peacefully beside Guinevere when something woke him. He lay there for a moment, unsure where he was, when he remembered. He was camped at Camlann. He was but possibly minutes or hours from a battle against Morgana and the Saxons. Most likely his own death. He frowned. But what had woken him? Guinevere shifted beside him and then her hand was on his chest. “Arthur. Arthur, what is it?” Arthur shook his head slowly. “Merlin.” Guinevere sighed. “It was just a dream. Go back to sleep. You need your strength.” Arthur shook his head again. “No. No, it was…” Why couldn’t he remember? Suddenly, the tent flap opened and Sir Leon stepped inside. “Sire, I am sorry, but Morgana is preparing to attack.” Arthur pushed aside the fear and swung himself out of bed. “We must ready ourselves. Prepare for battle.” Leon bowed and backed out of the tent. “Arthur-“ Guinevere started. Then she stopped herself. Slowly, assuredly, she helped him into his armour. It felt wrong. Merlin should be here, doing this. Merlin, his idiotic manservant who had grown to be his best friend and the one person he thought he would always be able to count on. And yet, when it really mattered, Merlin wasn’t here. Arthur shuddered as he thought about his last words to Merlin – how cruel they had been. But he was hurt. Hurt that Merlin had decided to back out of the battle they had been building towards for years. Hurt that he wouldn’t have his best friend by his side in what was most likely his final hours. Hurt that Merlin – dependable, brave, clumsy, loyal Merlin – had abandoned him when he needed him most. He swallowed as Guinevere moved around him, fastening his armour in place. He was used to peaceful moments like this, where Merlin dressed him and prepared him for battle, said something terribly wise that seemed at odds with the rest of his friends personality and then said something to the effect of how much he believed in Arthur. It was that belief in him, that devotion that Merlin had shown him over and over again throughout their years together, that had helped Arthur face many of his problems. He wished Merlin was here to encourage him now. There was a loud commotion outside and Arthur turned his head towards the tent flap, wondering what was going on. Then a figure stumbled into the tent and Arthur felt his heart stop, just for a moment. “ Mer lin?” he asked in astonishment. Gwaine, Leon and Percival had followed Merlin into the tent. “Look who we found,” Gwaine said, grinning. Merlin swallowed and looked at Arthur with those big doe eyes of his. “Arthur, you need to trust me.” Arthur shook his head. “What are you doing here? I thought you had something more important to be doing?” he asked petulantly. Merlin rolled his eyes. “You can be angry with me later. Right now, we have to take care of Morgana and the Saxons. Arthur, do you trust me?” Arthur stared at his friend. “Yes. With all my heart.” Merlin beamed, bright and sunny and so at contrast with the dark and despair surrounding them. “Then please, stay here. No one must leave this camp.” Arthur snorted. “ Mer lin, in case you didn’t notice, Morgana is preparing to attack us as we speak.” Merlin swallowed. “I know that. But I can take care of this. I can stop her and her army without a single Camelot soldier being hurt. Please, just trust me. Stay here and you will all be safe.” “Merlin, I’m hardly going to let you prance off to face an army alone. You can’t even hold a sword. ” Merlin shook his head, smiling lightly. “You’re a great king, Arthur. A bit of a prat, but a great king and friend, none the less. You said you trusted me, so do as I ask. Please.” With that, Merlin turned and fled from the tent. The knights stared after him, before turning to Arthur and Guinevere. “My Lord?” Leon asked. Arthur bit his lip, before sighing and saying, “Order everyone to stay at camp. Gwaine, with me.” Arthur left the tent and followed after Merlin, Gwaine close at his side. “We’re going to follow him then?” Gwaine asked. Arthur snorted and kept his eyes on Merlin. “Of course we are. I trust him. Fully. But I’m not about to let the idiot wander off alone. What could he possibly be planning if he thinks he can stop Morgana and her army?” Gwaine looked solemn, for once in his life. “I don’t know. But I except we’re about to find out.” *** Merlin wasn’t one hundred percent sure this was going to work. But he had to believe it would. He was stronger than he’d ever been before. After getting his magic back, he could feel it thrumming beneath his veins and he was ready to take on Morgana and her entire army if he had to, so long as Arthur was safe and far away from Mordred. He could not let the prophecies come to pass. Some saw his devotion to Arthur as loyalty or duty, to King and Country or magic. It was neither. Merlin was devoted to Arthur because he loved him. And right now, he was willing to do anything to keep the man he loved alive to see another dawn. As he reached the battle field, he could see the Saxons stood together, ready and waiting to attack. Standing above them on the jaggered edge of the cliff face, was Morgana. Merlin walked slowly and steadily, stopping several feet away from the Saxons. “This is your only chance. Leave now and no harm will come to you,” he shouted over the distance between them. Morgana laughed cruelly from where she stood. “What? Has Arthur sent you out here alone to fight his battles? Emrys. ” Merlin gazed up at her sadly. “Arthur does not know who I am or what I can do. But he trusts me. And I told him I would end this battle without a single Camelot soldier getting wounded. I meant it.” Morgana laughed louder. “You might be Emrys, but not even you are strong enough to take on an entire army and survive.” Merlin cracked a smile. “Wanna bet?” Morgana snarled. “Kill him! Kill him, now!” The Saxons raised their swords and charged. Merlin raised a single hand. His eyes flared gold and a large, bubble like barrier rose between himself and the Saxons. Temporarily safe from their advances, he threw his head back and yelled, “O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!” Knowing that Kilgharrah was on his way, Merlin looked back at the Saxons, who were trying to pass by his barrier. Swallowing hard, he dropped the barrier and let them charge at him. As they grew closer, he raised both his hands and screamed, “Ic þé wiþdrífe!” The Saxons at the front of the crowd were hit with the spell and flew backwards, crashing into their fellow soldiers. Then Merlin was casting stunning spell after stunning spell. “Ástríce! Folge min bebod! Awendaþ eft wansæliga neat!” One by one, the Saxons flew backwards. Next, he yelled, “Cume her fyrbryne!” A line of fire flared up, latching onto some of the Saxons who screamed as they began to burn. More spells sprung from Merlin’s lips and slowly but surely, the Saxon army began to fall. Finally, Kilgharrah arrived. “I need your help!” Merlin yelled. His voice was growing hoarse from casting spell after spell and his body was beginning to exhaust itself “Please. There are more soldiers prepared to attack from the hidden path on the other side of the pass. I saw it in the crystals.” The dragon flew off and over to the other group of Saxons Merlin had seen in the crystal and began to attack. Merlin raised his hands and began casting again and again. “Gewican ge stanas!” He screamed and the rocks on either side of the Saxons came crashing down, crushing them. “Emrys!” Morgana screamed from where she still stood. Merlin took a shaky breath, fighting off the exhaustion and began to throw fire ball after fire ball at the few Saxons still standing. There was fire and smoke everywhere, flying from Merlin’s hands. Until, finally, there was nothing left but rubble, smoke and hundreds of dead soldiers. Merlin collapsed to his knees, exhausted. He closed his eyes and took several breathes, trying to steady himself. “Maybe you’re more powerful than I thought, Emrys,” a cold voice said. Merlin looked up and saw Morgana walking towards him. “But you have drained your magic. You will be unable to defeat me.” “Kilgharrah-“ Merlin started. But his words were cut off when he was thrown backwards by Morgana. He crashed into the rock wall and winced as his head smashed against the solid surface. He was tired and his vision was blurry and he felt like he was about to pass out. But this wasn’t over yet. Arthur wasn’t safe yet. He forced himself to stumble to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Morgana,” he said, his voice gravelly. “I blame myself for what you’ve become.” “Why?” she snarled. “Because you poisoned me? Betrayed me? You’ll go to the ends of the earth for Arthur, you’re friend. But what about me? I was your friend and you tried to kill me.” She laughed bitterly. “I was so scared and so alone and it turns out you had magic, just like me. I told you of my powers and you did nothing to help me. Nothing!” She stretched out a hand and her magic shoved him against the wall and slowly began to choke him. Then, out the corner of his eye, he saw movement. A second later, through his watering eyes, he saw Arthur. The king had his sword out – Excalibur – and within the next second he had run Morgana through from behind. The magic dropped and Merlin fell to the floor, gasping. “No mortal blade can kill me,” Morgana sneered, even as the sword impaled her. “That is no mortal blade,” Merlin coughed out. “I had it forged under dragons breath for Arthur years ago. Goodbye, Morgana.” Merlin watched as the High Priestess, who was once upon a time his friend, collapsed to the floor, her eyes unseeing. He stared at her body for a moment, before raising his eyes to meet Arthur’s. “Arthur,” he murmured, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell into the land of darkness. *** It took three days for Merlin to wake up. Arthur barely left his bedside. He sat, staring at his manservant turned friend turned best friend turned sorcerer. Merlin had been right, of course. He did manage to save them all. Not a single knight of Camelot was harmed. The Saxons that Merlin hadn’t killed, that blasted dragon had. Arthur didn’t know how he felt about all of it. He was relieved, yes, that his men and himself were alive and well. He was stunned that Morgana was finally dead, and guilty that his sister had died at his hand. But mostly, his thoughts were on Merlin. Gwaine and himself had seen everything. They had hidden behind a rock and watched as Merlin had unleashed a godlike display of magic, managing single handily to kill hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers. The warrior he had seen didn’t fit with the imagine of his friend he had in his head. And yet… and yet it had happened. He had seen it. And suddenly, so many things began to make sense. How they always seemed to make it out of situations where they ought to have died. How Merlin managed to survive the Dorochas touch. How Gaius always claimed Merlin was in the tavern, and yet when Arthur had gone to the tavern, Merlin had not been there and the barmaid had said Merlin was never there unless it was with him. All the luck Camelot had seemed to have over these past ten years suddenly made sense. Because it wasn’t luck. It was Merlin. Merlin, who had lied to Arthur for years – and that hurt and he was angry, yes. But Merlin had lived in the shadows all these years, never once seeking any credit. He had saved Arthur and Camelot and the knights again and again, there was no doubt in Arthur’s mind. And the power Merlin had. Arthur had seen it first hand. And yet day in and day out for ten years, Merlin had slaved away as a servant, polishing Arthur’s armour, changing his bedding, dressing and bathing him, serving him. All these years… the most powerful man Arthur had ever seen – and according to Gaius, the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth – and he had been emptying Arthur’s chamber pot. And wasn’t that just so Merlin. Arthur stared at his friends still face, his hand still firmly holding Merlin’s. Gaius had said Merlin was just exhausted, but that he was physically okay, his body just needed the rest. Arthur just wished he would wake up. Then, as though he could hear Arthur’s thoughts, Merlin began to stir. His eye lashes flickered and then, slowly, those beautiful blue eyes Arthur loved fluttered open. “Arth’r?” he mumbled, blinking. Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “Finally. Time for you to stop being lazy, Mer lin. Three days asleep. Honestly. Truly the laziest servant I have ever known.” Merlin blinked at him and then his eyes widened as he seemed to remember what was going on. “Arthur, I can explain,” he rushed out, trying to sit up. “No, no, stay lying down, you idiot. You’ll knock yourself out again,” Arthur said, pushing lightly on Merlin’s chest and making him lie back down. “And it’s okay. Well, no, I’m angry. But not about the magic. Why didn’t you tell me?” He tried not to sound to hurt. “You’d have chopped my head off,” Merlin grumbled. “I’m not sure what I would have done,” Arthur answered honestly. He knew he wouldn’t have killed Merlin, but other than that… banishment? He swallowed the guilt. “And I didn’t want to put you in that position,” Merlin said softly, staring up at him. Arthur shook his head at him fondly. “Only you, Merlin.” He reached out with his free hand and let his fingers graze over Merlin’s cheek, watching as his friends eyes fluttered shut for a moment and his breathing quickened. “You did it. Gwaine and I followed you and we saw you defeat the Saxons. You saved us all, Merlin. Thank you.” Merlin stared up at him and his lips twitched slightly. “Does this mean I finally get a day off?” Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’ve had three days off while you were sleeping, Mer lin.” Merlin snickered, then groaned slightly. “I’m hungry.” “Of course you are,” Arthur replied affectionately, his fingers still brushing against Merlin’s cheek. “I should go and get Gaius and let everyone else know you’re awake.” But he didn’t move from his seat. Instead, he leant down and pressed a chaste kiss to Merlin’s lips. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispered once he had pulled back. “You’re my friend and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” “Nor I you,” Merlin replied, stretching up to kiss Arthur again. Arthur rested his forehead against Merlin’s. They had a lot to talk about and he was still hurt by the years of deceit, but he knew they would be okay. Because this was Merlin. And he and Arthur, well, they were like two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same whole. And when they were working together, well… there was nothing on this earth that could stop them. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur and Merlin plan to go to NYC for the ball drop, but Merlin gets sick. Arthur is being a sweet husband, Merlin finds a creative solution. Notes This is for a prompt by Mickey and the fanfic group. I had fun writing this! Thank you!’ Arthur and Merlin had been planning to attend the ball drop in NYC for 6 months. They would rent a hotel, eat dinner in the restaurant where they first met, and then go to Times Square to watch the fireworks and ring in the new year with a kiss. Unfortunately, Merlin got sick three days before they were set to leave their home in Baltimore to drive the hour and a half to NYC. Arthur decided to make Merlin some homemade soup while Merlin rested in their large bed upstairs surrounded by comfy pillows and blankets. He’d made sure that Merlin had tissues by his side of the bed, cough drops if he needed them, and some Vaseline in case his nose got raw from blowing it. He’d given him a dosage of NyQuil before heading to their kitchen to prepare a soup. Merlin was strange, he didn’t care for regular Chicken Noodle. So Arthur had grabbed the preparations for a copycat recipe of his favorite soup from Olive Garden, the zoupa toscana. It had potatoes, kale, and Italian sausage. Arthur made sure to get the spicy sausage to help clear out Merlin’s sinuses. It was also Merlin’s favorite sausage. As the soup cooked on the stove, Arthur browsed through his phone, looking at his social media accounts to see what their friends were up to on this New Years Eve. He knew Gwaine was out on a date with a new supermodel he’d met at work. Perks of being a photographer he supposed. He vaguely remembers Gwaine telling him her name was Sophia? Or Vivian? Something like that. Gwen and Lance would be tucking their kids into bed and spending the night drinking sparkling wine and cuddling until midnight just as they always did. Elyan and Percy were visiting Percy’s dad. They’d been there since Christmas Eve. He saw that his sister Morgana and her husband Leon were at NYC as they’d planned to be. Morgana was tagging him in videos of firework displays, saying how she wished they were their with him. She’d texted earlier to ask that he give Merlin her best wishes and to tell him that next time he thought about getting sick and missing out on a fun night with her, that she’d kick his ass. Nicely of course. He decided while the soup simmered he’d make Merlin a hot toddy. His mother’s recipe for a cure all- especially to a common cold. The NyQuil should be wearing off soon. So he prepared it and brought the drink up to his husband, gently waking him to have him drink the contents of the glass. Merlin mumbled his thanks as his sipped the drink in a bit of a daze. Merlin hated being sick, so Arthur tried making it the best experience he could for him. He desperately hated seeing his beautiful dark haired husband upset. He told Merlin he was going check on the soup, and then he’d put on the ball drop on TV and to join him downstairs when he was more awake. Merlin agreed and told Arthur he loved him as he quietly left the room. Arthur had just finished the last touches on the soup and got their bowls together on the coffee table in their living room. He was going to get them each a glass of water, and some bread. He had turned the television on before walking back into the kitchen when he heard movement from upstairs, he assumed Merlin coming down for dinner. As he placed the glasses and bread down on the table he’d heard Merlin call him from the stairwell. “Arthur! Baby come see!” Arthur hurried quickly to the stairwell, wondering if his husband was hurt or needed help down the stairs. However, when he reached the stairs he stopped in his tracks and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Merlin, sweetheart, what are you doing?” “I’m the ball on New Years Eve and I’m waiting to drop!” He announced cheerfully. Arthur sighed and shook his head affectionately, “You can’t be the ball drop.” “Why not?!” Merlin sounded offended “I’m pretty and shiny!” “You’re naked and covered in glitter!” Arthur wondered how he’d even gotten himself covered in glitter. Did he use the Vaseline Arthur had put on the night stand?? Where did he even find that much silver glitter to begin with? Merlin sniffed, crossing his arms and smirking at his husband, “My point still stands.” Arthur chuckled before climbing the stairs until he reached his husband. “Baby, let’s get you showered and then we’ll come downstairs to eat and watch the firework show on tv. I promise I’ll still give you a New Years kiss to remember,” he told him. Merlin smiled and nodded his acceptance, grabbing Arthur’s hand and leading him towards their bathroom. Arthur smiled fondly and followed the love of his life to the bathroom. It was indeed a Happy New Year. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Arthur and Merlin are excited to spend their first Christmas together as a couple, but when a beast descends upon Camelot, Arthur and Merlin must race to save Camelot and each other before its too late. Notes Merry Christmas everyone (I know its the 2nd but let's ignore that) This is my lil Christmas present to my dear iconic queen of a friend Ashley! I adore you sm thank you for making 2020 brighter and bring so much joy to my life, our conversations make my day and I'm so glad I get to call you a friend! ✨ Thank you for putting up with my fic ramblings and for supporting my venture into writing merthur, none of these fics would be possible without you!  I wish you all the best for 2021 and I hope you get all you want and deserve, hope you like this queen!  See the end of the work for more notes Arthur tapped his foot on the stone floor, listening as a villager explained her predicament, Arthur listened sympathetically instructing one of his knights to help assist the woman in any way, she beamed at Arthur thanking him as she hurried out of the room with Percival. Arthur sighed, rolling his neck, "What is left on the docket?" He asked. A court worker read the docket and Arthur slumped further back into the chair the longer the list went on. Once the worker finished, Arthur stared at the ceiling, "Don't say it," He said, turning to look at Merlin who was stood next to him. Merlin held his hands up, shaking his head, "I didn't say anything," He grinned. One corner of Arthur's lip flicked up, "You were thinking it," He said. "And what was I thinking sire?" Merlin asked, his eyebrows raised. Arthur groaned, "That we should be thankful for what we have and those coming to us on Christmas need our help and we cannot turn them away," Arthur knew that being king meant he couldn't just take the day off, but gosh how he wanted to. They had worked the night before into the morning hours, Arthur not even sure what time he fell into bed. Merlin nodded, cocking his head to the side, "Actually I was thinking how good you look in that crown," He smirked. Arthur tried to suppress the smile that grew on his face, shaking his head as Merlin laughed next to him, "We agreed to keep it professional at work," Arthur said under his breath. "Then you shouldn't of worn that crown," Merlin teased, earning a playful frown from Arthur. "You two, enough flirting," Gwaine said as he entered the room, his voice teasing. He approached Arthurs chair, bowing before speaking, "You have an audience with another king," Gwaine said, before nodding towards Merlin, "and Gaius needs you, Merlin," He said. Arthur nodded, standing up in his chair, "First we were not flirting," He said, convincing no one in the room, not even himself. "Second, let's move to the round table for our reception," Arthur announced, his hand on his sword as he walked down the steps. He turned to Merlin who was by his side, "Once I'm finished I'll come find you," Arthur said. "Who says I want to spend Christmas with you," Merlin jested, his arms crossed over his chest. Arthur looked skyward, then back down, "You did," he said, narrowing his eye at Merlin. Merlin playfully sighed, "Ah I did didn't I," He said, "What a mistake that was," He joked. Arthur could see the Knights gathering by the door preparing for their audience with the neighbouring king, "Be careful with whatever Gaius needs," He said to Merlin, "We don't need you dying on Christmas," He halfheartedly joked. Merlin, as always, saw through his use of humour to cover his actual worries, cocking his head to the side, "Worried about me are you?" He asked, stepping closer to Arthur. Arthur raised his brows, a small pout on his face. "Well, you do have a history of being an idiot," He joked, walking towards the large oak doors of the court. "A history ?" Merlin exclaimed, "So I'm not anymore?" He asked. The pair walked through the large doors, "History can repeat itself," Arthur joked. Merlin laughed as he was about to exit down the corridor, "Merlin," Arthur called, grabbing Merlin's hand to stop him walking, "Be careful," He said, his voice serious this time. What went on the Gaius chamber was normally kept on a need to know basis, Arthur knew that Merlin downplayed the danger he put himself in some time. Arthur told himself that he wanted to know what happened as he was the King and Merlin was the court sorcerer, yet even Arthur didn't completely believe that. Even though they had agreed to keep their working relationship professional Arthur couldn't help but let the personal seep through every now and then. Merlin didn't laugh this time, just gave a slow nod, "I always am," He smiled, squeezing Arthurs hand, "You be careful too," He said before heading off down the hall to Gaius. Arthur frowned, "I'm having a meeting, how could I get into trouble," He asked. "Oh, I'm sure you could find a way," Merlin called over his shoulder, smirking as he disappeared around the corner. Arthur laughed to himself, turning back round to head down towards the hall. Arthur was acutely aware that for however long Merlin was with Gaius, Arthur's brain would be preoccupied with that. "So what your plans after you finish court today," Gwaine said as they walked towards the grand hall. "If we ever finish," Arthur sighed, "I have some business to attend to once I'm done," Arthur said, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. Gwaine raised his eyebrow, a smirk growing on his face, "You mean Merlin," He teased. Arthur seemingly tripped over his own feet, earing a laugh from Gwaine. It seems Arthur and Merlin were the only ones intent on keeping their relationship separate from work. Arthur cased his eyes over to Gwaine who was still smirking, " That is not how you should speak to your king," He mumbled. "Can't help notice how you didn't deny it, my king," Gwaine continued. Arthur contained the smile that was beginning to form. Merlin and Arthur didn't exactly hide their relationship from those close to them, on the rare occasions that they had free time they'd spend it together and the others knew but Arthur didn't like to announce it, knowing his enemies could use that information against him, "So what did you get Merlin for Christmas," Gwaine asked. Arthur rolled his eyes as they strolled down the hallways, "Oh come on," Gwaine said, bumping his shoulder into Arthurs. Arthur shook his head, ducking it as spoke, "It's nothing that concerns you," he said. Arthur tried not to think about how that technically wasn't true. "Something special then?" Gwaine teased. "Go announce our revival before I have your head," Arthur grinned, nodding towards the large doors ahead. Gawain grinned back "Of course my King," he gave a bow and headed towards the door at the end of the hallway. Arthur paused outside, taking a large breath as the nerves began to settle in his stomach, not at the meeting before him, but as he thought about his gift to Merlin. "Merry Christmas Gaius!" Merlin announced practically skipping into the room. Gaius looked up over his glasses which perched on his nose. "And you too Merlin," He smiled, "You seem in a very good mood," He asked, flicking the page of the book in front of him. "Why wouldn't I be, its Christmas," Merlin said, coming to sit in the chair opposite the older man. Gaius nodded, keeping his eyes on the book as he spoke, "And this has nothing to do with you spending it with Arthur?" Merlin was glad Gaius wasn't looking at him, sure his cheeks had gone a crimson colour. Gaius knew about Arthur and him, as did the guards but they had promised each other that when working they'd keep things professional, or at least as much as they could. Merlin and Gaius gave each other a knowing look before the older man flashed a smile and got up from the table, walking across the room. It was true. Merlin's heart beat faster this Christmas, his smile a little wider. After defeating Morgana a few months ago, Camelot had drastically changed. After Merlin had found Arthur bleeding on the battlefield, he had used his magic to heal Arthur, finally revealing his secret to him. Merlin stood outside Arthur's door, his hand wrapped around the handle, his knuckles white. Arthur had been healing from his wound for a week now and was finally awake. Since healing him and bringing him back to Camelot, neither had spoken about Merlin's revel. For a moment it had felt like a weight had been listed from Merlin's shoulder, but as they entered Camelot that weight had come crashing back down. No one but Arthur and Merlin knew what had happened that day. Merlin took in a deep breath pushing the door open and stepping inside. Arthur was sat up in the bed, still looking pale, "Hey," Merlin quietly said, hanging around the door, his nerves stopping him from going any further, "How are you feeling?" He asked, his hands held behind his back. "Alive," Arthur said, his voice clipped, "I'll be fine," he said, looking off to the side. "Good, that's good," Merlin said, forcing a smile on his lips, but Arthur didn't return it. "You haven't said anything," Merlin finally choked out, the weight becoming all too much. "I just spoke," Arthur snapped. Merlin swallowed, stepping further into the room, "I mean about..." He paused, waiting for Arthur to look at him but Arthur never did, "about what I told you," Merlin finished. After a moment Arthur finally looked over at Merlin, and for the first time ever Merlin was unable to read his eyes, "About you being a sorcerer?" He said, his voice monotone. Merlin nodded, quickly walking over to Arthur's bed, sitting on the edge, "I never wanted to lie to you, Arthur," He said, his voice already trembling, his hands clasped in his lap. "I just...I know the position I would put you in if I told you," He said. It was true, he had told himself it was too protect Arthur, if Uther ever found out Arthur needed to be able to say he didn't know and mean it. But Merlin also couldn't bear to see that look of hatred in Arthur's eyes, eyes that were always so kind to Merlin. Uther sending Merlin to the gallows was less of a punishment than having Arthur hate him. "You mean having to decide whether to tell my father," Arthur said, his eyes narrowed. After a moment he took in a deep breath, resting his head back against the pillows, "I told you that day, that I wouldn't have known what I would have done," Merlin nodded. He understood, Uther was his father, was his king and had raised Arthur to hate magic, he could see why the boy would be conflicted. "That was a lie," Arthur admitted. The weight on Merlin's shoulders and chest pushed down harder, "Whether you had told me weeks, months or even years ago, whether it was before or after my father had passed," Arthur sighed, "I would have done the same thing," Arthur paused, pursing his lips for a moment before he spoke, "I wouldn't have done a thing," he finally said. Merlin furrowed his brows, shaking his head, "Magic is forbidden?" He asked. "Because my father was vindictive," Arthur said, his face and eyes softening, "Not because magic is evil," he said. Merlin couldn't believe what he was hearing, he felt a smile tug on his lips, "You-you believe magic is good," Merlin stuttered. "I've seen magic do horrendous thing, twisted people into..." He trailed off, looking away from Merlin, his jaw clenching. Arthur finally looked back at Merlin, "But you," He said, "Your not evil, you're the furthest thing from that," he softly said. "You don't know what I've done," Merlin said, thinking about all the people that had been hurt because of him, because of his magic. "I know that whatever mistakes you've made, whatever choices, you did it to protect people," Arthur said. Merlin looked down, "You don't hate me?" he asked, unsure he wanted to see the look in Arthur's face, right now he could live in the perfect bubble where Arthur didn't hate him, where Arthur still wanted him by his side. A small smile came on Arthur's lips and Merlin felt the weight lift, "I could never hate you, Merlin, I don't think it's possible," He finished, the smile still on his face. Merlin gave a small laugh, the anxiety and stress of the week finally coming to the surface. Merlin sighed, reaching up to run his hand down his face, "So, what do we do know?" Merlin asked. Arthur leaned back on his bed, pursing his lips again as he thought for a moment. Merlin just sat there with a smile on his face, like an invisible barrier had been removed between the two for the first time since they had met, "Well, first of all, you're fired," Arthur said. The smile fell from Merlin's lips, "What," he gasped. "Well you can't possibly handle two jobs," Arthur said, "You can barely handle the one," Arthur said, giving a playful frown. Merlin waved his hands out in front of him, "Wait two jobs," Merlin asked, thoroughly confused. "Magic is a part of this world, this kingdom," He said, moving in the bed and swinging his legs over the edge, "And I want someone in this court that understands that, that can help use magic for good," Arthur said, looking up at Merlin, "A court sorcerer if you will," He finished. Merlin's mouth fell open, his eyes wide, "You-your going to allow magic back into the kingdom," he stuttered, each word tripping over the other. "I am," Arthur said, his voice strong. He held his arm out to Merlin, "And I hope you'll be by my side when I do," He smiled. Merlin reached his arm out, clasping it around Arthur's forearm and pulling the king up so they were standing in front of one another, arms still clasped, "Always Arthur," Merlin beamed. After that, Arthur and Merlin had started to rebuild the kingdom together, side by side. It had only taken a few months for their relationship to move into something less than platonic. Merlin wasn't sure when it happened or how, but after Merlin's secret was revealed it was like everything else had been revealed too. "I hope you don't spend all your time working thinking about the King," Gaius said, pulling Merlin out of his thoughts. "I wasn't-" Merlin went to protest when he saw the older man raise his brow and Merlin just sighed in defeat. Gaius gave a victorious smile, "Did you finish making your gift to him?" He asked, coming to sit down at the small wooden table. Merlin nodded, "Yes I did," He smiled. It had taken weeks and lots of magic to prepare Arthurs present but Merlin was confident that it was now complete, Merlin tried to ignore the worry about whether Arthur would actually like the present seep into his mind. "Now what did you need help with, the sooner we finish the soon I get the rest of the night off," Merlin sighed, coming to stand next to Gaius chair. "Ohh do you now," Gaius inquired, raising a brow. "Kings orders" Merlin smirked. "Of course," Gaius said with a smile. "What do you need my help with," Merlin asked, gazing down at Gaius work. Gaius looked over the brim of his glass, picking up a feather and showing it to Merlin, "Well, I found this outside the walls of the castle, along with this," He said, nodding to a drawing of tracks from some kind of animal, nothing Merlin had seen before. "What is that from," Merlin asked, leaning down to look at the drawing. "I have no idea," Gaius said, holding out a book for Merlin to search. A sinking feeling came over Merlin that told him this wasn't going to be a quick task. Both men sat down, flicking through book after book. After an hour or so Merlin; who had lost track of time and on the verge of sleep, flicked the page over and paused. Frowning as he looked over at the feather and tracks then back at the book, repeating a few times until he was sure they were the same. He put the book on the table and stood up. The sense of dread only growing, "Oh no," he said. Gaius stood and walked over, peering down. He frowned, picking the book up and studying for a moment, "We better call Arthur," He said, looking over at Merlin. Arthur was now stood in Gaius chambers, looking down at the book, his brows knitted together, his mouth slightly open, "It's a what," he asked again. "A Cockatrice," Gaius said. "What on earth is that," Arthur asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Merlin looked over at Gaius the pair thinking for a moment before Merlin looked over at Arthur, "It's a two-legged dragon or serpent-like creature with a rooster's head" Merlin said, watching as Arthur's face got more confused with every word he said. After a moment Arthur nodded, taking in the information, "Right," he said, "Is it dangerous?" He asked. Both Merlin and Gaius looked down at the picture of the creature then back up at Arthur who sighed, "I'll take that as a yes," He said. Gaius stepped forward, "It has the reputed ability to kill people by either looking at them—" Arthur held his hand up, "Wait we can't even look at this thing?" Merlin shook his head, earning another sigh from Arthur, "How on earth are we meant to stop it?" He asked, but neither men had an answer. "There's not much scripture on it, we're still looking for ways to kill it," Merlin said. Arthur leaned forward, his hands bracing on the edge of the table, "What are you going to do?" Merlin asked. Arthur flicked his eyes to Gaius, "We can't look at this beast?" He asked again. "I'm not sure," Gaius said, the only answer they had. Arthur nodded, standing up straight, "Guess I'm going to have to find out," He said, nodding to the men before heading out of the room. Merlin followed him out of the room into the hallway, "Wait, wait Arthur how are you going to find out?" he asked. Arthur kept his face forward, his eyes glancing down at the floor. A sickening feeling came over Merlin, he reached out and grabbed Arthur's arm to stop him for walking, "No," he yelled. Arthur finally looked at Merlin, "It's the only choice Merlin," he said, but Merlin could see from his eyes even Arthur wasn't sure. Merlin threw his hands out to the side, "So what you're just going to go out there and what? Look at it and hope it doesn't kill you," He said. "Hopefully I can kill it before it looks at me," Arthur said, his face strong and calm. "That is suicide Arthur," Merlin said, his hand still on Arthur's arm, clutching harder. "I have to protect Camelot," Arthur declared. Merlin shook his head, the people of the kingdom saw Arthur's unwavering loyalty and devotion to Camelot as a blessing, Merlin was starting to see the curse in it. As a member of the court and citizen of Camelot Merlin wanted to protect Camelot by any cost, but as Arthur's partner, there were just some costs he wasn't willing to pay. Merlin pulled Arthur closer, " We have to protect Camelot," He urged, "I can use my magic," he said. Arthur tilted his head to the side, "How are you going to do that without looking at it?" Merlin groaned, Arthur was right and Merlin hated it. "Sire!" Leon called, coming around the corner, "A witness said they saw a beast circling Camolte," Both men looked at each other before heading down the hall towards the courtroom. Arthur and Merlin entered the courtroom where a woman stood in the centre, her body trembling, "What kind of beast did you see?" Arthur asked. "It-it was horrid sire, it was like a dragon but but-" She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips, "The head was a rooster," She said, clearly confused by what she had seen. "Did you look it in the eyes?" Arthur asked, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Yes, dead eyes," She nodded. Arthur thanked the woman, instructing Leon to take care of her and make sure she is safe. Leon led her from the court and once the doors closed Arthur turned to Merlin. "Well, that solves one problem," Arthur sighed. They could look at it, they had no idea how to kill it but at least they could look at the damned thing when it killed them, "Lancolte! Gather the knights," Arthur said as he started to walk out of the court. The knights nodded and headed towards the courtyard. "Merlin, return to Gaius figure out how to kill this thing," He ordered. "I'm coming with you," Merlin said, reaching out to grab his arm. "No, you're not," Arthur ordered, "We don't know how to kill this thing-" "I have magic," Merlin interrupted. "Which we don't know will work," Arthur corrected. He tried to tell himself this was a logical decision, they didn't know if magic would work and he needed Merlin to work out what would work. But Arthur knew if it had been any other sorcerer and not his boyfriend, he would have instructed them to come with him. But Merlin wasn't any other sorcerer, he was his and Arthur wasn't going to risk his life, regardless what was at stake, "You said it yourself the answer is in one of those books," He said as the alarm bells sounded above them, "Find out what kills this creature then find me!" Arthur called, starting to run down the hallway when Merlin called his name. Arthur stopped and turned around as Merlin crashed his lips against Arthur's, his hands coming up to cup his face. Arthur stumbled for a moment before his hands came to wrap around Merlin's waist. After a moment they pulled back, Merlin still holding his face in his hands, "Please be careful," he begged "We don't need you dying on Christmas," He joked, but Arthur could see the fear on his face. Arthur smiled, squeezing Merlin's hips "Neither of us is dying today, I promise," He said, planting another quick kiss on his lips, remembering how it felt, how Merlin looked as he raced off down the hall, praying with everything he had that he could keep his promise. Arthur came out into the courtyard, his knights stood in position. Arthur withdrew his sword, walking through the middle of the knights. A loud screeching beckoned from above and all the knights threw their heads to the sky. "SHIELDS UP," Arthur yelled, his knights following his order. The beast appeared and Arthur tightened his grip around his sword, watching as it circled the men below like they were pray. Arthur closed his eyes for a second, Merlin would come thought, he always did. The beast dived and Arthur took in a deep breath, he and the knights charged forward, their swords swiping and stabbing at the beast. It's longs claws swiped at knights, Arthur ducked watching as a row of knights were thrown back onto the stairs. Arthur stood straight as the monster turned around quickly, before he could duck again the lengthy tail crashed into Arthur's chest, sending him flying back into the concrete wall. Arthur crashed into the ground, his head spinning and aching. Arthur tried to push himself up but his arms gave way, a surge of sickness and dizziness coming over him. Arthur saw through blurred vision his knights fighting the beast, he needed to help them. Arthur tried to clear his vision and stand but his legs still felt weak. Arthur took a deep breath. Camelot needed him. If he failed the beast would destroy the kingdom and kill everyone in it. Kill Merlin. Arthur pushed himself to his feet, Merlin wouldn't fail, he'd find the answer, Arthur held onto that as he charged towards the beast, sword ready. Merlin would get the answer, and they would save this Kingdom together, like always. Merlin charged down the hall, almost tripping over as he barged into Gaius chambers, "We need to find a way to kill this thing," He yelled, going back to the book where they had found out about the monster. "Where's Arthur," Gaius asked. Merlin paused for a second, before flicking open the book, "We need to work, and fast!" He said. Gaius just nodded grabbing his own book as the men began to hurriedly read. They were going to find something Merlin told himself, they would slay the creature and everything would be fine. Merlin wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was sure it was far too long. He slammed the book down on the table, "Why can't we find anything," he yelled. Gaius looked up from his own book, "It takes time-" "We don't have time," Merlin barked, "Arthur doesn't have time he's out there with that beast and-" The words got caught in his through, unable to think about what was happening out there. Merlin squeezed his eyes together, shaking his head as his voice wavered, "If something happens to him-" Merlin clenched his hands hard, his knuckles going white. "Worrying isn't going to save him," Gaius said, holding out a fresh book for Merlin. He was right, worrying wasn't going to do anything, he had to find an answer, use his magic to saved Arthur and Camelot, Merlin reached out and took the book. More time passed and Merlin was about to throw the book when he saw something, staggering up from his chair. "Wait, wait here's something," Merlin said, scanning his finger across the page at a line of ancient text buried in some old legend. "According to legend, having a cockatrice look at itself in a mirror is one of the few sure-fire ways to kill it" Merlin dropped the book looking around the room, no freaking mirro,r. Merlin racked his brain trying to think of a spell that could conjure a mirror, trying a few in quick succession but nothing worked. Merlin just shouted, starting to run for the door when Gaius called, "Merlin wait you don't even know if this will work!" "I've got to try," Merlin yelled as he left. Merlin sprinted down the hall, checking the rooms as he did, no mirrors, the only ones he found were far too small for the monster. Merlin threw open the courtyard doors, knights were scattered across the floor, some moving some not. Merlin's heart nearly stopped as he searched for Arthur, his hands clasping hard by his side. He spotted Arthur crouched on the ground next to a hay bale, his shield held above him as the beast circled. Merlin started sprinting towards Arthur, running as fast as his legs would go, ignoring the pain in his chest as his lung struggled. The beast began to dive fast towards Arthur. Merlin pushed harder as the beast screeched and dived faster, Merlin and the beast in a competition to Arthur and right now Merlin couldn't tell who would get there first. Merlin threw out his hand towards Arthur's shield, the magic inside of him flickering to life, the golden embers glowing in the night. "Speculum faciunt!" Merlin roared. The front of Arthur's shield shifted and twisted, the beast growing closer and closer as the red metal of the shield trickled off to reveal a mirror underneath. The beast cried out, twisting in the air as it collided into Arthur's shield and turning into dust covering the ground. Merlin stood there breathing hard, licking his lips, they did it. He ran over to Arthur sinking to his knee's in front of him. Merlin reached out and cupped Arthur's cheek, he ran his eyes over his face and body, Merlin let out a deep breath as he saw no blood, "Are you okay?" Merlin panted. Arthur nodded, still breathing hard "I'm fine," He smiled, but Merlin could see how Arthur winced when he moved, "Nothing a hot bath won't fix," Arthur smiled, clearly noticing Merlin's watchful eye. Merlin smiled back, standing from the ground and pulling Arthur up with him. Arthur looked down at his shield before looking back up at Merlin. "What did you do," He asked. "We found a passage that said the beast reflection would might kill it," Merlin panted, giving a shrug, "I remembered a spell that was supposed to turn metal into mirrors. thought I'd try," He smiled. Arthur stood there, his mouth hanging open, " Might kill it?" Arthur said, his brows pulled up, " Thought I'd try, " He said, his brows getting higher. "You guessed?" He asked, but Merlin could tell it wasn't exactly a question. Merlin opened and closed his mouth a few times, giving a small pout before answering, "I mean it was that or let it eat you," He said. "I had it handled," Arthur said, putting his sword back into his belt. Merlin looked around at the scene, knights had gotten to their feet and were starting to head back inside, before looking back at Arthur, "That was you having it handled?" Merlin said, nodding towards the hay bale where Arthur had been. Arthur scoffed, his eyes narrowed, "And what were you doing Mer lin? What took you so long" Arthur asked, "What did you do have a nap?" Merlin just shook his head, a small smile on his lips, "You know, normally when someone saves your life, you say thank you," Merlin teased, his head tilted to the side. Arthur gave a small laugh, slowly walking forward and gently grabbing the lapels of Merlin's jacket. Merlin shuffled forward, as Arthur placed a gentle kiss on Merlin's lips, pulling back before Merlin had a chance to deepen it. "Thank you Merlin," He whispered. "I thought we were going to try and keep it professional at work?" Merlin asked, although he himself didn't care all that much for professionalism. Arthur gave a chuckle, letting go of Merlin's jacket, much to Merlin's disappointment. "I think it's a little late for that," Arthur said. Merlin laughed, it was true anyone in Camelot that didn't know what was going on had surely been living under a rock. Arthur nodded towards the large door, "I should see to my knights," He smiled. He started to walk when he paused next to Merlin, "Met in my chambers afterwards?" He asked to which Merlin nodded. Arthur went to walk when Merlin grabbed his hand, his finger wrapping around the leather. "I'm glad you're okay," He breathed, the air still sparse in his lungs. Arthur brought their hands up to Arthur's lips, giving Merlin's hand a small kiss, "I promised I would be," He grinned. He dropped there hands and started to walked away. "Oh Arthur one more thing," Merlin said as the lights flickered in his eyes, a small round snowball forming in his hand. Arthur turned around and the snowball landed in the middle of his face, exploding and sending snowflakes across his knight's gear. Merlin threw a hand to cover his mouth to suppress the laugh that was aching to escape. "Did you just throw a snowball at your King?" Arthur said, the snow melting and dripping down his cheek, how was it possible he looked even better? " No," Merlin laughed, his hands held behind his back, "I did throw one at my arrogant boyfriend though," The mock-serious look fell from Arthur's face and a shy smile appeared. Merlin cocked his head to the side, "What?" He asked. Arthur kept his eyes to the ground before a moment, peeling them up to look at Merlin, the smile still on his lips, "Nothing I just..." He shook his head, letting out a deep breath, "I just never tire of hearing you say that," He quietly said. "That you're arrogant?" Merlin joked, Arthur gave breathy laugh. Merlin walked forward meeting Arthur where he stood, "I'm glad you never tire of me calling you my boyfriend," Merlin hummed, looking up at Arthur, "Because I have no intentions of ever stopping." He smiled. He couldn't tell if it was because of the cold but Merlin could have sworn he saw Arthur's cheeks go red. "Lucky me," Arthur quipped. There was shouting from inside the castle and Arthur nodded at Merlin as he ran up the stairs, speaking to one of the knights that were at the door. Merlin sighed, looking around the Courtyard, dust that was once the beast covering the floor like snow. Merlin shook his head, giving a small scoff what a Christmas. Arthur walked into the hospital, approaching Gwen who was tending to one of the knights, "How are they?" Arthur asked, looking around the room. She kept her eyes on the wound she was cleaning, "They'll be okay, need some rest, but they'll live" She smiled. Gwen put the blood-soaked cloth down turning to Arthur, "How are you?" She asked. "Fine," Arthur said, ignoring the ache that was starting to form in his back, sure there was a bruise there. "Gwaine said you got thrown against a wall," Percival said, sat on a table next to the pair being seen to by another nurse. Arthur heard someone cough loudly and turned to see Gwaine giving Percival dagger eyes, stopping when he noticed Arthur, "Gwaine needs to stop talking," Arthur said, cocking his head to the side, "I'm fine Guinevere," Arthur assured. "He's got Merlin to heal him," Gwaine quietly said. Arthur snapped his head around to look at his friend who was already slipping off the table, backing away, "I'm going to go check on Lanc," He said, giving Arthur a wink. Arthur looked back at Gwen, "Do you need any help," He asked. "No, I'm nearly finished," She sighed, her hands on her hips, "Go enjoy your night off," She smiled, giving one of his arms a small squeeze before heading off into the room. "Thank you, Guinevere," Arthur called. People always said Camelot was great because of Arthur, but it was because of the people that surrounded Arthur, people like his knights, Gwen and Gaius and of course Merlin. Arthur went back to his room, running a bath and soaking for a while. He could feel his muscles slowing untensing, Arthur rolled his neck as the steam filled the room. After an hour Arthur willed himself to leave the warm water and got changed into black pants and a white tunic. There was a light knocking on the door and Arthur turned around to see Merlin walking in, himself having changed into another red tunic and black pants. "You look better," Merlin smiled, closing the door behind him. "Like I said nothing bath couldn't fix," Arthur smiled, his body already feeling better. Merlin's eyebrow raised, "You drew your own bath?" He asked, a smirk on his face. "I have been for a whole year thank you!" Arthur said, walking past Merlin. "Makes me wonder why I had to do it in the first place," Merlin asked, cocking his head to the side, "And get you dressed, and cook your food, starting to think you made me do it just to annoy me" Merlin continued. Arthur walked and sat down on the large oak table, his hands folded on the table, "Do you want to continue talking about this or enjoy Christmas?" Arthur sighed. Merlin thought for a moment, "I can multitask," He smiled, coming to sit across the table from Merlin. "You're an idiot," Arthur scoffed, smiling as he shook his head. "An idiot you love," Merlin smirked, raising one of his brows. Arthur smiled down at the table, hiding a smile that said I do. Arthur looked up at Merlin to see him looking down at his hands, playing with his sleeves, Arthur furrowed his brows, Merlin looked notice. Merlin seemed to notice Arthur's glances and looked up, "I have something for you," He quickly said, "A Christmas present, I know we said we weren't going to do them but you know," Merlin held his hands over the table, speaking something in another language as a long package appeared, a velvet blanket draped over it. Merlin pushed it towards Arthur who reached over, running his hands over the red velvet. Arthur peeled it back, undoing the ribbon around the package. On the table was a long gold sword, there was a silver stripe down the middle with writing in an ancient text that Arthur didn't understand. Arthur ran his hand up to the hilt of the sword, the body of the hilt was Opel, at the top was a large round red emerald. Where the hilt ended and joined the sword, two golden dragons sat either side, their wings spread out, "After what happened to Excalibur I thought you could use a new sword," Merlin quietly said from across the table. After the great battle and what Excalibur was used for, the lives it had to take, Arthur couldn't bare to wield it again, returning it to the lake. Arthur picked up the sword, holding it with one hand and flipping it; perfect balance. "Do you like it?" Merlin asked. Arthur swung the sword, reaching out and carefully running his finger over the writing on it. "What does it say?" Arthur asked, noticing how breathless he sounded. "For the love of Camelot," Merlin spoke from his chair. "It's beautiful Merlin I-" Arthur chocked on the emotion that rose in his throat, he cleared his throat, carefully placing the sword on the table. Arthur sat down on his chair, reaching out to take Merlin's hand, squeezing it, "Thank you," He smiled. Merlin relaxed back into his chair. Arthur sat back in his chair, biting his lip. Arthur tapped his hand on the edge of the chair, there had been several points over the week where Arthur had nearly given Merlin his present but every time he backed out, his nerves getting the better of him. Arthur glanced up at Merlin who was light by the candle's on the table, a smile on his face. Now or never. Arthur pushed himself up from his chair, "I have something for you too," He said. Arthur walked over to his desk, pulling the draw open and pulling out the package. He stared down at it before walking over to Merlin. His hands were wrapped tightly around it, right now felt like a before and once he handed the package over it would be the after and Arthur wasn't sure things would be the same. "You going to keep it?" Merlin joked. Arthur looked at him, he was smiling up at Arthur, the corners of his eyes crinkled; beautiful . Arthur took in a large breath, walking over to the table, perching on it next to Merlin. He held the box out and Merlin took it, pulling the ribbon and undoing the wrapping. Arthur felt his breath quicking as each layer fell away. Merlin pulled the lid of the box off, a puzzled look on his face as he stared down at it. Merling reached in and pulled the golden crown out. "It's a crown?" Merlin said, staring up at Arthur, "I'm the court sorcerer why would I have a crown," He said, his brows pulled together. Arthur ran his tongue across his lips. He had never gotten this far, he felt an invisible rope around his lungs tighten as the words were on the tip of his tongue, so close to being spoken. "To match mine," Arthur finally said. Merlin just stared up at him, clearly not joining the dots and Arthur wasn't sure if he was glad or not. Arthur reached out and took the crown placing it on the table, and taking Merlin's hand in his, running his thumb over the back of Merlin's hand. "I know you said you never wanted to stop calling me your boyfriend but..." Arthur slide of the table, moving to kneel in front of Merlin, who's eyes were currently growing wider. "I was hoping you might change it to husband," There it was, he had said. Merlin just looked at Arthur, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open slightly. Merlin's eyes grew watery and Arthur couldn't tell if it was from emotion or the fact that he hadn't blinked in what felt like minutes. "Are you-are you asking me to-" "Marry me?" Arthur interrupted, his own smile growing as he knew in his heart and mind that this was what he wanted, "Yes I am," Arthur breathed, grinning. Merlin finally blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, "Are you sure?" He gasped Arthur wanted to laugh at that, "Merlin I have never been more sure of anything," Arthur said, his own vision blurring with tears. Merlin laughed, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, tears escaped down his cheek. "Yes, of course, yes!" Merlin laughed. The air returned to Arthur's lungs as Merlin reached forward, pressing a kiss to Arthur's lips, both men smiling as they kissed. Arthur reached up and brushed the tear from Merlin's cheek. Arthur stood up, Merlin standing with him, their hands clasped between them. "So does this mean you have to call me king now?" Merlin asked, his head tilting to the side, "Or Sire I'm happy with both," He teased. Arthur reached out, taking the crown and placing it onto of Merlin's head, smiling at the sight. He let his hand travel down to coming to rest on his shoulder, "Merry Christmas King Merlin ," Arthur smiled. Looking at his boyfriend wearing the crown he deserved. He had done more for Camelot that anyone, had saved it more than anyone, there was no one else Arthur wanted by his side, no one else who held his heart as Merlin did. "Merry Christmas King Arthur," Merlin grinned. It had been a long road here, one thwart with pain and loss. Arthur knew there were by many more days like today, days where they had to be separated, where one of them would be in danger. Arthur wasn't a fool, he knew there was still work to be done in Camelot, bigotries about magic that still lingered. But known of that scared Arthur, not when he thought about Merlin sitting next to him on the throne with a crown he deserved. Arthur leaned forward, and kissed his husband to be, wrapping his hand around his neck and deepening it. Arthur pulled back his forehead resting on Merlin's. Right now Arthur wasn't worried about the future. Right now the only thing he cared about was the man he loved before him, and the life and kingdom they were going to build together. End Notes THANK YOU FOR READING! I hope you enjoyed and Merry Christmas  Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, his hands gripping the door in terror. “Yes, Arthur?” Merlin answered, distractedly. “Do you even know how to drive?” Notes This was written cause I passed my drivers test. Special thanks to Surya and Athena for beta reading :D Arthur sat in what Merlin had termed the ‘driver’s seat’ and absentmindedly pressed the pedals and buttons in confusion. He’d only been resurrected for a few weeks—most of which had been spent learning the local language and customs; apparently one of those customs was learning how to make the metal contraption known as a ‘car’ move. That was what brought him to this. This being sitting in the driver’s seat and being taught how to drive by an immortal sorcerer. Merlin told him which pedal was ‘go’ and which was ‘stop’, and pointed him in the right direction. The rest, as it happened, was up to Arthur to figure out. Personally, Arthur thought, he wasn’t all too opposed to Merlin giving him more information. In fact, he’d welcome it! All he knew was that this metal death-trap was called a car and that it was moved by pedals at horrifying speeds. “Turn the key,” Merlin said and pointed at the keys hanging in the dash. Arthur did as Merlin told him to, and sat there, petrified, as the car roared to life. It was louder then he’d expected, and wilder too. “What kind of sorcery is this?” “Not sorcery,” Merlin told him, seriously, “mechanics and engineering. Completely mundane.” Arthur levelled a glare at his friend, “I understood none of that.” “It’s non-magical sorcery.” Arthur turned his attention back to the car. Merlin had called the thing in front of him a ‘steering wheel’ and told him it controlled where the car went. How it did that, Arthur had no clue, but it had to have something to do with the way it twisted. Slowly, cautiously, Arthur pressed down on the go pedal—accelerator, he recalled vaguely—and the car roared. It did not move. “Merlin!” Arthur yelled, “Merlin! The go pedal didn’t make it move!” “Arthur!” Merlin yelled back, “I’m sitting right next to you, prat, no need to yell. You’ve got the park brake on.” “Oh,” Arthur fiddled with the buttons and levers until Merlin took pity on him and pointed it out. The red light on one of the Untouchable Dials in front of him went out. Cautiously, but somehow less so than before, Arthur pressed the accelerator down; the car shot off like a rocket, and both Arthur and Merlin screamed their heads off. Arthur wrenched the wheel to one side and watched in horror as the scenery blurred as they spun in circles. He felt sick, he was moving faster than he’d ever moved before, and yet somehow, simultaneously, he had more and less control over his own movement than he’d ever had. The way Merlin had told it, it was entirely up to Arthur how fast the car went, and where it went, but it certainly didn’t seem like it now. Arthur pushed his foot down harder and the car moved faster, the speedo in front of him going way past the 110km/hr mark. He and Merlin both jolted forwards when the car stopped abruptly and Arthur’s hands shook with the remnants of adrenaline and terror. It was over before it had really begun, and Arthur just sat there, in the aftermath of the crash, and stared at the wreckage that had been caused. “Right,” said Merlin, “let’s fix this then, and try again.” Again, Arthur sat in the car—this time a newly repaired and slightly more durable car—and forced himself not to run. If he looked at this as though it was a challenge he needed to master, then he could probably do it. Probably . Hopefully, anyway. He pushed down on the accelerator, gently, and the car began to move forward. Slowly, ever so slowly, Arthur let himself press down harder. The car moved faster. “Merlin,” he asked, “how do I slow down?” “Press the brake.” Arthur nodded to himself and slammed his foot on the brake. The car lurched and Arthur hit the steering wheel. It beeped. Loudly. The noise startled Arthur so much that he let out a long stream of expletives. With every word, Merlin’s eyebrow crept higher—in a manner not dissimilar to Gaius’ famous look. Finally, Arthur groaned, and Merlin—ever so hypocritically—swore, and the two of them both glared at the car. “It’s lucky for us,” Merlin told Arthur while he healed the bruises along Arthur’s chest, “that the seatbelt was invented—saved loads of lives it did; even if at first people thought it was stupid. Without it, you’d probably be dead again. Thankfully you just hit the horn.” “Go on,” he urged, then, “try again.” And Arthur did. After all, he had never been good at refusing Merlin’s orders. Arthur practised, and practised, and practised until he could control the speed the car moved. As it turned out, Arthur preferred the calmer speeds and safer driving—it was far easier, and he didn’t want to crash again . Once was enough, thank you very much. Eventually, he deemed himself ready and merged onto the road. There were lines painted on this road, and Arthur had no clue what they meant. He stuck to the middle, one half of the car in each lane, and drove to a speed he was more comfortable with. Several cars beeped their horns at him, and when he looked over, they were glaring through their windows. Arthur watched them go, each one staying in their own lane so he moved the car over, sticking to one side. Unfortunately, it seemed that he’d never quite figured out how to stay in one lane, and as such wove across the road in increasingly dangerous moves. Merlin pointed to a flat gravel expanse on the side of the road and Arthur pulled off. His hands were shaking, and he found himself happy enough to just sit there. “Let’s go home now,” Merlin said, “I’ll drive us back—it’ll be far quicker.” Merlin slid into the driver’s seat and Arthur into the passenger’s. Merlin, it seemed, had had some practice in being the fastest possible driver around. He wove through traffic at 110km/hr, both on the footpath and the wrong side of the road, weaving through the cars and people with too many near misses. “Merlin?” Arthur asked, his hands gripping the door in terror. “Yes, Arthur?” Merlin answered, distractedly. “Do you even know how to drive?” “Of course! I learnt nearly a century ago!” Oh , well that explained everything. “I think,” Arthur said sagely as they pulled up outside Merlin’s house, having gotten there in barely a quarter of the time it had taken Arthur to get them away, “We should hire someone to drive from now on.” Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Not me taking that little bit in whatever episode it is when Arthur jumps when Merlin drops something and r u n n i n g with it Notes *ahem* I haven't seen Merlin in absolutely ages so I don't know if I got everything entirely accurate Please let me know if there is any mistakes and I shall fix them See the end of the work for more notes “Yeah, that’s because you’re a clumsy oaf, now pick that lot up.” Merlin looked at Arthur for a second before bending down to pick the cups. No matter if Arthur denied it or not, Merlin knew what he saw. ------ Merlin had told him. They were outside and it was dark and cold and Merlin had told him . He had explained it was only for Arthur, that he never used it unless he needed to. And Merlin was still, miraculously, alive. He honestly hadn’t expected that to happen. Merlin had prepared himself for death, what with Camelot being… well Camelot. But Arthur hadn’t killed him yet. He also didn’t look like he would either. “Show me some?” The request was so quiet, Merlin nearly missed it. “I’m sorry?” Arthur looked at him, and Merlin picked up a genuine sincerity in his eyes. “Show me some.” Arthur repeated, sounding more confident. Merlin hesitated. He’d never actually done magic in front of anyone like this. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and uttered something Arthur was far from understanding. Arthur noticed Merlin’s eyes turned gold, and suddenly, a small flower sprouted from Merlin’s palm. Arthur looked at it in a genuine awe. “Wow…” “Uh, yeah.” Arthur looked at Merlin again, some form of calculating look in his eyes. “That the best you’ve got?” Merlin smiled, hiding his surprise that Arthur was so ok with this. “I’m glad you asked.” Merlin readjusted his position, held his hand out, and uttered yet another word Arthur didn’t understand. Before he knew what was happening, fireworks were going off around them. Arthur jumped, eyes widening like a deer in the headlights. He went ridgid, trying his best to block out the noises and also look unbothered. It took him a minute to notice the banging of the fireworks had stopped, and Merlin was looking at him, apparent concern in his eyes. “Arthur? Are you ok?” Arthur mentally shook himself and turned to Merlin. “Perfectly fine, Merlin.” “Were you afraid?” “Afraid?” Arthur sputtered. “I don’t get scared, Merlin, I’m a knight. And the king of Camelot.” “You know there’s no shame in being scared.” Merlin countered, his lips quirking upwards. “Shut up Merlin.” ------ “It’s really raining outside.” Merlin commented, glancing out of Arthur’s window before pulling the curtains closed. Arthur stopped writing mid-sentence and looked up at Merlin from his seat at the desk. “Honestly Merlin, your observation skills are that to be reckoned with.” Merlin glared at Arthur before turning to the bed. The wind howled outside, making the rain spatter harder against the glass. “Gaius says there’s going to be a thunderstorm.” Arthur stopped, gripping the quill tighter in his hand. Not a thunderstorm, anything but a thunderstorm. He shook his head slightly. He would be fine, he’d gotten through enough by himself, what was one more? But there was this small part of his brain telling him to tell someone, have someone help him through this. There was an even smaller part of his brain telling him that someone should be Merlin. Arthur couldn’t explain it, but there was something about Merlin. The way he smiled, the way he went out of his way to help people. Everything about Merlin made Arthur want to confide in him. But that small part was overpowered by the rest of his brain telling him that being afraid of such a childish thing like thunderstorms was a weakness, a humiliating weakness he should be able to get over. “Well then, you should be getting back to Gaius before the rain picks up too much.” As if on cue, the rain picked up, and the faint rumble of thunder loomed in the background. “You’re even more of an idiot if you think I’m going out in that weather.” Merlin said, sorting out Arthur’s bed covers. Arthur sighed, rising from his desk and crossing over to Merlin. “Well then, you’d best stay in the antechamber then, hadn’t you?” “Oh don’t sound too excited.” Merlin said sarcastically. Arthur glared at him. o Arthur had no idea what time it was. All he knew is that it was late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) and he hadn’t slept in any sense of the word. He was sat in the middle of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, desperately trying to block out the ever growing noise of the thunder, which, as he inevitably discovered, was a fruitless task. Another crash of thunder caught him off guard, and Arthur yelped, drawing more into himself, if that was even possible. He tried regulating his breathing, only for it to hitch again when another clap of thunder filled the room. Arthur didn’t know if it was just him in his panicked state, but that one seemed louder than the others. Suddenly, the door connecting Arthur’s room to the antechamber opened, and Merlin now stood in the doorway, eyes darting around the room. “Sire?” Arthur looked over to Merlin, eyes wide, and opened his mouth to speak. He suddenly became aware that someone had walked in on him in this state. And to make matters worse, it was Merlin. His manservant, his friend, his… oh to hell with it, his love. Any words he had been planning to say died in his throat, and he let out a noise that could only be compared to a pathetic whimper and dropped his head back on his knees. Merlin gently shut the door and looked at Arthur. Gods, he looked like a drowned kitten. He walked over to the bed, and sat tentatively on the edge, giving Arthur some space. “So you are afraid?” Merlin meant to sound almost accusatory, but it came out concerned. Arthur didn’t respond. Something about seeing Arthur like this unsettled Merlin. Arthur was… well Arthur. He was brave, fearless, caring. He never let anyone see things got to him. Seeing the king, the person he considered his closest friend, the person he loved, in a state like this- well it scared Merlin. Another bout of thunder filled the room, and Merlin saw Arthur flinch again. “Arthur? Arthur, look at me.” Merlin coaxed. Arthur picked his head up off his knees and looked at Merlin, eyes wet. “There we go. Now, I need you to breathe with me, ok? Just breathe.” Arthur, after a few tries, followed Merlin and took a breath. “There we go, well done. Think you can do another?” Merlin asked softly. Arthur nodded, and tried again. Merlin had lost track of time, but after a while, Arthur’s breathing had slowed, and he was less shaky, although he still looked terrified. “You doing any better?” Merlin asked, breaking the silence. “Yeah… I am. Uh, thank you.” Arthur responded, not looking Merlin in the eyes. “Are you sure? You just thanked me.” joked Merlin, hoping it would get a smile out of Arthur. It didn’t. Merlin frowned. “Are you sure you’re ok?” “I’m fine.” Merlin didn’t do anything for a minute. Then, he said, “If that’s all Sire,” and got up to go back to the antechamber. “Wait!” Merlin spun on his heels as Arthur cursed his mouth for betraying him. “Sire?” “Don’t leave me, please.” Arthur was aware that he sounded weak and pathetic, but at this point he found that he didn’t care. He just wanted comfort. He knew it was a stupid request- Merlin would probably laugh at him, or just ignore him and go back to sleep. He wasn’t expecting to feel his mattress dip and hear Merlin say “Shove over.” He was also not expecting for Merlin to start hugging him . Despite Merlin’s strong embrace, Arthur couldn’t find himself relaxing; the storm was still raging outside. “You know there’s nothing to be afraid of right? It’s just a storm, I thought you loved rain.” “I do, I do…” “But?” Arthur hesitated. He had never been this vulnerable in front of anyone. “But… storms, thunder especially, unsettle me. As do most loud noises.” Merlin simply nodded. He had never seen Arthur talk about any emotions in his life, and didn’t want to risk saying anything that would make Arthur stop. “M-My father… when I was younger, he- he would bang his fist… or throw things… when he was angry… and it… well it scared me, and I guess, I’ve always associated loud noises with…” Arthur cut himself off with a strangled sob, but Merlin didn’t need him to finish. “Oh, Arthur, I’m so sorry.” Merlin started, but Arthur shook his head. He didn't want pity. “Don’t.” Arthur mumbled, sinking further into Merlin's embrace. For once in what felt like forever, Arthur felt safe. ------ When Arthur woke the next morning, the sun was already in the sky. He was about to curse Merlin for not waking him up before he realised Merlin was sitting up in bed next to him, playing with the hem of his tunic. “Aha. You’re awake. I thought I’d let you sleep a bit. Will you be wanting breakfast?” Arthur was slightly taken aback at the chipper attitude Merlin had. “Oh, uh, yes, please.” “Wonderful, I'll go get some now.” With that, Merlin flung the covers off himself and headed towards the door. “Merlin?” Arthur called out, propping himself up on his elbows. Merlin turned to him. “I just… I just wanted to thank you for last night. You… you didn’t have to.” Merlin smiled softly. “You’re welcome. And of course I had to, Arthur, I love you I couldn’t let you go through that alone.” Merlin’s smile dropped when he realised what he said. Now it was Arthur’s turn to smile at Merlin. “What was that Merlin?” “Uh, what? I didn’t say anything, did you say anything, I didn’t-” “Merlin.” Arthur interrupted, now having made his way over to Merlin, standing across from him. “Shut up?” Merlin tried, dropping his head slightly. Arthur rolled his eyes. He took Merlin’s chin and gently kissed his lips. At first Merlin protested slightly, before melting into it. After a while, they broke apart, for breath rather than anything else. They both looked at each other, smiling wildly. “So…” Merlin started. Arthur smiled. “Yes, Merlin. I feel the same.” He confirmed. “Now, fetch us some breakfast.” End Notes I have no idea if this is good or not but feel free to leave comments or kudos. If you want. You can do what you want Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Merlin doesn't use a disguise at the battle of camlann and reveals himself in a blaze of glory Notes Prompt: Merlin Battle of Camlann canon AU — We all know the scene, were Merlin appears as dragoon and fights the Saxons, right? But in my opinion, the scene would have been so much more powerful if it was not dragoon that appears, but Merlin as himself! That’s what this fic is gonna be about. Merlin saving everyone from the Saxons with his magic, as himself. And to make it even more powerful, he’s not gonna do it alone. He’s not going to appear out of the blue with just a magic staff, no, he appears as Merlin, the dragon lord. On the back of Kilgarrah, Merlin arrives on the battle field. Everyone is wondering why the dragon is helping them, but then they see a man riding the dragon and fighting with them. One moment, Arthur is about to get attacked, but doesn’t notice. But Merlin appears right in front of him, on the back of Kilgarrah and shows just how powerful he really is. Arthur is shocked. Merlin then gets down from Kilgarrahs back and fights next to Arthur and everyone. With his magic. In the heat of the battle, Arthur doesn’t care. Of course, they win. But it’s not Arthur who gets wounded, but Merlin, while he fights Morgana, and kills her with Arthur’s sword. (You can decide what happens to Mordered) Arthur is angry. Feeling betrayed. He sends Gaius to take care of Merlin, but shortly after he’s not in danger of dying anymore, sends him in the vaults. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows, that Merlin saved them all, but he’s so angry. In the mean time, Merlin refuses to eat, drink or do anything else. Arthur has no clue about that. Soon as Arthur finds out, he gets even more angry, bc Merlin is reacting this way. So he goes and talks to him, or rather shout at him. Merlin is devastated. And so on and on and on.... the rest is up to you! Also, it is kinda up to you in the end, but gimme hella long fanfictions please like, 46000 words and I’D KISS YOU if more .... ima merry you lmao! No jokes aside, I love love love, really loooooooooong fics. But if it happens to be not that long, it’s perfectly fine

To save Camelot and their destiny, Arthur and Merlin travel to the magical realm to learn how to use magic. But, they have to be careful. Weapon - and magicless - they have to not only learn magic. They have to find their way back home as well. And what awaits.... is Camlann. Notes A.N.:// So, I'm trying some world building for this one :) The art was made specifically for this fic. It's kinda how I imagine the setting of the first place they see in the magical realm :) If you zoom in, you may spot Merlin and Arthur there XD Also, I don't think this will contain romance. As I'm currently not planning on it. But it will explore Merlin's and Arthur's friendship and can probably be read as more. The story has yet to tell me what it wants to be. :3

Merlin and Arthur take advantage of their snow day. After the sledging and the snowpeople and the snowball fight with Elena and Elyan and Percival in the park down the way, Arthur followed Merlin to his house at the edge of town. The walk was a bit long, longer because of their many layers, so Merlin yanked Arthur down into the snow in the front garden when they finally, huffing and puffing, got to his house. Arthur caught his breath as Merlin smiled squintily and waved his arms and legs about in the snow. "What're you doing, Merlin?" Arthur asked, resigned note in his tone. Merlin would flail about even if he had nowhere to fall. "Making a snow angel, Arthur, were you born yesterday? From a hole in the ground?" Merlin replied, frowning incredulously as he peered over his stripey scarf--the one that Arthur got a little cross-eyed with if he looked at it too long. Arthur ignored the jab at his apparent 'lack of culture,' considering Merlin couldn't tell the difference between gruyere and Laughing Cow. "A snow angel? It looks like you're having a seizure in slow-motion." Merlin snorted and stood up, having only a little trouble in his four layers of trousers, to look down at his work. Arthur sat up too, to see what did look sort of like an angel, if angels were triangles. But Merlin looked very pleased with a layer of snow comically sticking to the back of his body. Arthur couldn't help but smile as well. Merlin was like an incurable disease, spreading the happy everywhere, so there was no use in tamping down the warmth in Arthur's chest. "It's clearly a snow angel!" Merlin exclaimed, gesturing with his mittened hands. Arthur looked down at his own ski gloves and then flopped back in the snow, swiping his arms and legs for a moment before standing and assessing his own technique. "You'll get better," Merlin said, snickering. "Although I'm not sure how you can mess up a snow angel." Arthur laughed and elbowed Merlin lightly. "I don't get enough practice flailing about, I suppose." The angel did look a bit funny. Its wings were bent and it looked a bit droopy, but the silliest thing about it was that it shared wingspace with Merlin's own angel. It looked like the angels were holding hands. Or, hand-wings. "I think they're in love," Merlin joked. "It's a budding romance, for sure." "Looks a little emotionally unstable, that one," Merlin added, pointing to Arthur's angel. "Perhaps Gilbert should take caution entering into this new relationship." Arthur pouted. "Hey, don't judge based on looks!" "Sorry, Arthur. Didn't realize you were so sensitive." "Also, Gilbert?" "Whatever. It's not as bad a name as your Mabel." Arthur snickered, watching Merlin watch him through those very blue, very squint-happy eyes. "Wanna come in for hot cocoa?" Merlin asked after a moment. "Yeah," Arthur said, nodding. "Father's not back until Tuesday, so there's not much to do at home besides hearing Morgana's death metal." Merlin hooked an arm around Arthur's shoulders and led him to the front door. "You know, you can stay with me anytime. It's pretty lonely, so... and I know Mum adores you..." Merlin trailed off, face colouring when Arthur didn't respond immediately to fill up the awkward silence. Arthur looked down at his feet, said a quiet, "Thanks, Merlin." When Merlin let him into the house, showing uncharacteristic graciousness when he helped Arthur out of his tangled scarf, Arthur leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. Merlin's answering smile lit up the room, as always, but there was a quality to it that had Arthur letting out the shaky breath he'd been holding. When Arthur opened his mouth to explain, or--or something, Merlin just took his hand and led him into the kitchen. "So, would you like some cocoa with your marshmallows, Mabel?" he teased, and Arthur was laughing again, feeling light as air, like he'd like to kiss Merlin again. Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

Stuck in a snowstorm, Arthur meets Aithusa while Merlin is asleep. He immediately loves her. Notes See the end of the work for notes It wasn’t often Arthur got time to himself. With his Kingly duties and demands, he barely got time to breathe. So occasionally, he would take a day off and spend his time in the forest. Hunting was the excuse he used when questioned by the old Lords in his council, but the truth was that he simply needed a day sometimes to be just Arthur and not King Arthur. So after a rather stressful meeting regarding the process of changing certain laws of Camelot, he stormed into his room, Merlin on his side, and told him to pack some food and his camping items. It went beyond saying that Merlin would accompany him. As they rode deep into the forest and reached snow-topped mountains, Arthur felt peace wash over him. Time away from his kingdom did do him a lot of good. The fact that Merlin was beside him added to that happiness. The journey had been pleasant, with Merlin’s mindless bickering softening his mood. Here, alone with Merlin, he did not hesitate to hold back his fondness as they cuddled (for warmth, he told himself) at nights, and had moments of friendly horseplay (it’s what friends do! Arthur did not need an excuse to touch his manservant, thank you very much) in the day. All in all, Arthur was happy. Nothing could ruin his good mood now. --- He was so wrong. A snowstorm had erupted out of nowhere, and the duo was forced to take shelter in a cave. They had enough food to last for 3 more days, and Arthur prayed that the storm would subside by then. Merlin somehow managed to get a fire going (Arthur swears it's like fire loves the man) and they huddled in the warmth, shoulders pressed together (for warmth!). Night had fallen and Arthur told Merlin he would take the first watch. Merlin nodded, his small frame shivering in the cold as he laid down in front of the fire, a measly blanket covering him. Looking at his servant shaking like a leaf, Arthur felt a tug at his heart. “Idiot,” he murmured as he covered Merlin up with his own thicker blanket. He settled down against the wall of the cave and watched the flames make shapes on the wall, pulling his cloak over him. It was somewhere close to dawn when the fire began to die slowly. It was around then that a small figure approached the cave. Arthur looked warily at the shadow right outside the cave, covered by the storm. His hand hovered above his sword as he prayed for it to be a harmless animal seeking shelter. He was so wrong. Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin as a small, white dragon pattered in, looking at him curiously. He thought there were no more dragons left. He gripped the hilt of his sword, uncertain of attacking a mere baby, and yet afraid of a dragon. Arthur’s heart pounded in his chest as the dragon walked closer to him. A moment passed. Then another. The white lizard regarded him with glowing golden eyes. Or that could just be the reflection of the dwindling flames in her eyes, Arthur wondered. But for whatever reason, the dragon made no move of scorching him with fire or attacking him with her sharp talons. As though she sensed the hesitation in him, the dragon made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeal and ran towards him. Arthur startled when the dragon landed on his lap and pawed the red cloak blanketing him. She circled in his lap, like a cat making her bed, and settled down right there. Snuggling . Arthur would’ve snorted in amusement if he wasn’t afraid of waking Merlin up. Clearly, the white dragon was no threat to him, but he did not want his servant panicking and hurting himself or the innocent creature by mistake. Hesitantly, Arthur placed a hand on her back, feeling the scales ripple in tension. “Good dragon,” Arthur whispered. “Don’t chomp my hand off, okay? You’re safe.” His own words surprised him. He may not harm her, she was after all a baby, but it was still a bloody dragon. To assure a creature of magic that it was safe was treason. Even if he was wishing it was not so at the moment. The dragon however seemed to relax at those words and purred in contentment when he patted her, stroking her back softly. A knot formed in Arthur’s throat at the sight of the dragon relaxing under him. He continued to pat her for a long time until the fire had died, and the dragon began to snore puffs of smoke from her nostrils. Her body seemed warm under his hand, and somehow, he knew that she was still awake. Feeling a sense of loneliness fade away, he decided to talk to her. Even if she may not understand him. “I’m Arthur, by the way. I don’t suppose you have a name?” He peered at her curiously, as she lifted her head to stare at him with those golden eyes again, as though she was trying to convey something. “No, I figure not. I’m going to call you something, though,” he mused. “I can’t keep calling you ‘dragon’ now, can I?” He mulled it over, racking his brain for good names for the adorable creature. A name sprung to his mind as his gaze flickered to the snow-covered land outside the cave. He looked at her again as she waited for a response. “What about Eira?” The corner of her jaws lifted, as though she was smiling. This got a chuckle out of Arthur. A dragon, smiling. That was definitely something. “Okay. Eira it is. It means snow, you know. Don’t look at me like that! It was all I could think of right now. Merlin is usually the one with creative nicknames.” At the mention of Merlin, she picked her head up once more, looking interested. Of course. Everybody seemed to be interested in Merlin. Arthur saw the appeal though. With kind eyes and a face as beautiful as a fae, Merlin could charm the pants off anyone if he wanted. But Arthur had never seen him show any interest in anyone over the years. He wondered why. “You like Merlin, then?” He asked Eira, who smiled again, thumping her tail over his leg in excitement. Arthur sighed and laid his head against the wall. After a beat, he decided to let his emotions show. It wasn’t like Merlin could listen to him anyway. He was blissfully asleep, warm, and safe. And Eira, being a dragon, couldn’t talk and thus wouldn’t tell him. “He is… my friend. Don’t tell him I said that though. He would never let me live it down. He’s the bravest man I know. I’m lucky to have him if I’m being honest. God knows I torment him enough. How he puts up with me, I don’t know. It’s a miracle he hasn’t left. I think that’s what I’m afraid of most, you know?” Eira said nothing, just continued to look at him with knowing eyes. He resumed his patting and spoke. “I know a King shouldn’t have weaknesses. But I do. And it’s Merlin. He’s my weakness and my strength. I wouldn’t be here without him. He’s a right idiot, don’t get me wrong. He’s an absolute bumpkin, with the self-preservation of a fly and clumsiness that could rival all the Five Kingdoms. But I wouldn’t want him any other way.” Arthur got lost in thoughts of Merlin as the realization dawned on him. His hands stilled on Eira’s back, who got up on his lap to get his attention. He looked at her in shock. “I think I’m in love with Merlin,” he whispered, the weight of his words settling deep within him, making a storm grow in his chest which rivaled the one raging outside the cave. Eira squealed, in agreement Arthur wanted to think, and got off his lap. Before Arthur could grasp what she was doing, she pattered towards Merlin. With a start, he got up and stumbled over his cloak trying to get to her. “Eira! Stop!” he whispered harshly, running after her. He caught her just in time, as she stepped on Merlin’s blanket, and picked her up. She flapped her wings in his arms as her mouth opened and closed. “You can’t fly yet, Eira. You’re a baby. Stop it!” Arthur scolded her, holding her an arm’s length away from her flailing wings. “-Lin!” she squawked, and Arthur almost dropped her in shock. He turned her around to have her face him. “You can talk?!” Eira simply flapped her wings harder and cried louder, “Lin! Mrlin! Merlin!” Arthur’s jaw dropped, and he would have fainted in shock if the bundle of blankets in front of him hadn’t moved. The movement caught Eira’s eyes as she swung her neck around. “Merlin! Merlin!” Merlin shifted in his blanket once again. Arthur brought Eira close to him and glared at him. “Stop it! He can’t see you! What if he hurts you!” Arthur whispered angrily at her. It seemed to have no effect as she resumed calling out Merlin’s name. The next thing he knew, Merlin was sitting up straight, looking around like he heard someone call for him. Arthur quickly stuffed Aithusa under his tunic and covered that area by wrapping a tunic around him. “-rthr?” Merlin mumbled, his hair sticking out in all directions as he turned around to find Arthur standing behind him, arms crossed. “Did you just call me?” “No!” Arthur said a little too quickly. Merlin narrowed his eyes at him. He got up, shaking off the blankets which pooled at his waist, and stalked towards Arthur. Arthur gulped at the scene before him. Merlin, flushed from the cold, hair and clothes messed up in his sleep, looking at him like that . He had pink coating his cheeks, and the laces of his tunic had come a bit undone. His darned neckerchief was nowhere in sight, giving Arthur full view of Merlin’s sharp collarbones and milky skin which was usually hidden by it. Arthur wanted to sink his teeth into his neck and pepper him with kisses until Merlin moaned his name. He wanted to be the reason for Merlin’s undone state. His treacherous thoughts were interrupted when Eira squirmed under his tunic, her sharp talons grazing his stomach slightly. Merlin came to stand in front of him, looking him up and down with a frown on his face. Eira squealed once again, and Arthur coughed. Merlin gaped at him. “Did you-did you just squeal ?!” Arthur’s cheeks were flaming with embarrassment now. “I don’t squeal , Mer lin. I’m not a girl, unlike you.” “Uh-huh.” Merlin’s raised eyebrow was an eerie imitation of Gaius’s. There was an awkwardness in the air as Arthur struggled to keep Eira out of sight and Merlin watched his king suspiciously. Arthur brushed past Merlin, moving towards the cave entrance as Merlin startled by the sudden movement and tripped over his feet. “Where are you going?!” He called out. Arthur did not turn around. He placed a hand on Eira over his cloak, hoping she would not make a sound. Merlin came and stood in front of him once more, eyeing him with doubt. “I’m getting more wood! The fire has died.” “It’s a nightmare out there or are you blind?!” “ Mer lin,” Arthur emphasized, praying Merlin would take a hint and stop talking. Saying his servant's name was clearly a mistake because Eira parroted him not a moment later. “Merlin!” Merlin’s jaw had dropped, and now was openly gaping at him. Arthur winced. This was not going well at all. “Who said that?” Merlin demanded, placing his hands on his hips. Arthur tried to get out of it. “Me, obviously.” “No, that wasn’t you. It was definitely something more… shriller,” Merlin said, frowning at him again. His eyes were narrowed as they searched the cave behind him like he was expecting someone or something to pop out and attack them. Arthur snorted, hoping it would cover his nerves, “Don’t be daft, Mer lin. There’s no-” No sooner had those words left his lips, Eira scrambled out of his tunic and Arthur made a grab for her, holding her tightly as she flapped her wings towards Merlin. “Merlin!” She cried out once more. Merlin, due to this commotion, had fallen backward on his butt, and looking at Eira with shock etched on his face. He looked at Eira, who was trying to fly to him and then at Arthur, who was holding her gently, preventing her from taking a stumble towards the ground, and then back at Eira, and again at Arthur, trying to connect the dots. Arthur had the audacity to look sheepish as he pulled Eira close to his chest, as he held her with one arm. His other hand scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I can explain?” He said, hoping Merlin wouldn’t do anything rash. “You-you-dragon-you?” Merlin stuttered, scrambling to his feet. His eyes were blown wide as he took in the scene before him. Arthur knew it looked ridiculous. Arthur Pendragon, son of the man who loathed magic, who killed the supposed last dragon in Albion, was holding and petting a baby dragon. Talk about irony. Arthur snorted, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yes, Merlin. Try to keep up, will you?” Eira squealed Merlin’s name again as his servant whipped his head towards her so fast, Arthur was scared he’d break his neck. “She can talk?!” Merlin gasped, sounding more surprised than scared. It made sense, Arthur thought. Merlin was more attuned to nature and animals than he, so he probably wouldn’t be that scared of Eira. Despite the fact that she was a dragon . Arthur nodded, lips turning up in betrayal of the frown he tried to hold. Not that Merlin would’ve noticed. No, his servant’s attention was entirely focused on Eira, as if he had forgotten that Arthur was still there. Merlin gazed at Eira with a fondness that Arthur couldn’t figure out where it had come from. Eira flapped her wings harder in Arthur’s arms, and they now hit his face. “Gods, Eira, stop it!” He scolded her. “Aithusa.” Arthur now gaped at Merlin, who was still holding one of the softest looks he’d ever seen. “What?” Merlin now looked at Arthur, a smile on his beautiful features. He said, “Her name is Aithusa.” Arthur nodded, still not understanding what Merlin was saying. “And you know that because…?” He prodded. Merlin chuckled softly, bringing his hands forward and taking Eira, no, Aithusa from him. He cradled the dragon in his arms, as Aithusa snuggled in them, looking peaceful. “I hatched her. Months ago.” Eh? “You what?!” Arthur gaped at his servant. Merlin looked up, and for the first time that day, a look of uncertainty shadowed his face. Merlin looked scared. “I-I need to tell you something, Arthur,” he said, chewing on his lip. Absentmindedly, Arthur’s hand shot up and he gripped Merlin’s chin softly. Merlin looked at him in surprise as Arthur’s thumb gently pulled down Merlin’s lip from where his teeth held it. “Arthur?” Merlin whispered, his expressions flickering between doubt, love, and fear. Merlin’s eyes searched his, and Arthur realized his mistake and stepped back, his heart thudding away in his chest. “No! I mean, I want to! Just, not yet. You deserve the truth.” Merlin yelped, one hand fiddling with his tunic’s edge, the other holding Aithusa close. “The whole truth.” Arthur nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He had no doubt that what Merlin would say would probably hurt him. But he also knew that whatever it was, they could deal with it. Nothing could make him hate his Merlin. Certainly not Aithusa, who snuggled into Merlin’s arms contently. They sat down and stared at where the flames once were. And all was explained when Merlin’s eyes glowed like Aithusa’s and the fire blazed warm and bright again. Merlin looked at Arthur hesitantly, and Arthur nodded, getting over his initial shock. He placed Aithusa next to the fire, where she curled into herself, pleased. Merlin spoke to him of his magic, how he was born with it. And how he was magic himself. He spoke of all the times he saved Arthur’s life, and then he spoke of Balinor, and dragons, and magic, and Morgana. He spoke of Freya, and Lancelot, and Will, and his disguise of Dragoon. He spoke of Nimueh, and Agravaine, and Mordred. Arthur sat there, listening, taking everything in. His betrayal, his loyalty, his lies, his love. He took it all in and held it close. When Merlin was done and looking at him with fear in those ocean eyes, Arthur searched his heart. He found hurt, and he found love. He found acceptance and guilt. In that split second, he made his decision. He opened his mouth, to tell Merlin that he didn’t care. That he was forgiven. That he was sorry that he had to hide. That he was planning on lifting the ban. But all that came out was, “I love you.” His eyes opened in shock, at how his own mouth had betrayed him, and saw Merlin’s drop open, not expecting that response either. He began to say about how he understood if Merlin didn’t feel the same way when the man threw himself on Arthur, toppling them both to the ground. They were nose to nose now, Merlin’s breath on his face, as his heart mirrored the thudding in Arthur’s chest. “Say that again,” Merlin demanded, searching his eyes like before. “I love you,” Arthur whispered, his gaze not leaving Merlin’s. The next thing he knew, Merlin’s lips were on his, kissing him hard. Arthur got over his shock quickly and returned the kiss, pouring his love into it. Their hearts beat as one, as their breaths became one, as their souls became one. Next to them, Aithusa gave a snort of approval and walked out of the cave. Her job was done here. Two days later, the storm had subsided, thanks to Merlin’s effort at coaxing the sun out. The pair returned to the kingdom, a weight lifted off both their shoulders, looking happier than ever before. And if anyone noticed the white, baby Dragon trotting beside them happily, well, who were they to question their King and his unofficial consort? End Notes Just assume that Gwen and Arthur don't get together, because she still loves Lancelot. And she knows Arthur loves Merlin. Also, I love Aithusa! I might write more fics with her in them. Let me know what you think! Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

After years of waiting for Arthur's return and magic finally being legal, Merlin gets the chance to see his king again. In another timeline. Where Arthur lived. And Merlin died to save him. The problem: This Arthur doesn't know about Merlin's magic. It gets worse. Notes This is angsty af. Just as a warning. No, I don't know where this came from. You're welcome :)

Arthur had finally put his finger on it. The thing that had made Merlin stand out, the thing that had intrigued him about the boy ever since the first time he’d met him. The thing that was going to get him killed… Merlin had magic. Not only had it, but used it freely all the bloody time. It was only a matter of time before someone saw him do it, and then they’d report him to the king and Merlin would be dragged out into the courtyard and executed. Well, not if Arthur had anything to do about it. Mid series one, Arthur, for once not being totally oblivious, discovers that Merlin has magic. The problem is, having magic gets people killed and Arthur very much prefers Merlin alive. It turns out making sure nobody sees Merlin do magic is rather a full-time job however... Notes Written for the 2021 Merthur Glompfest!! For lilacqueen - thank you for the fantastic prompt, I really hope you love what I've done with it!! A lot longer than I originally planned it to be and one of the longest fics I've ever written - and a chaptered fic!! I hardly ever do chaptered fics!

Everyone he trusted with his secret – Will, Freya, Balinor, Lancelot, and now Gaius – was gone. Arthur would never bring magic back to the land, and he would never let Merlin stand at his side the way Merlin had hoped he would. It was a cold awakening, years of baseless faith dashed against the fraying tapestry that destiny had made Merlin sew into his own skin, but an awakening nonetheless. Merlin is shaken out of his obsession with destiny and his blind faith in Arthur. Arthur just wishes he knew how to get his closest friend back. (For Merthur Angst Week 2021 Day 7: “No. You don’t get to talk.”) Notes Wow, hello! I watched Merlin for the first time in Oct 2020 and here we are I guess... Angsty tension is what keeps me going so when I saw this angst event u know i had to do it to em Warnings: • Death: somewhere between minor and major (please see the tags!), generally off-screen • Violence: somewhere between canon-typical and graphic I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!